


Bare Beneath the Layers

by Jedwyn



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Drug Use, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Fluff, Heartache, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Mental Instability, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-07-14 19:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16047137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jedwyn/pseuds/Jedwyn
Summary: "You know that feeling when you walk into a party and just know something bad, or weird, or dangerous is going to happen? Yeah, that's exactly how I felt walking into this party." The broken road of Stan and Rick's relationship. Stanchez AU with some Fiddauthor and maybe others thrown in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, just for some backstory, this story is set in an AU where the confrontation with Ford and Stanley hasn't happened yet. So, Stan and Ford have an ok relationship right now. Don't worry, sibling confrontation will happen. This story is going to be some fluff fun, some romance, some plot, smut, and angst. Because flawed characters leave so much room for it. Please let me know what you think will happen and your thoughts. I love hearing from you guys. Rated E for explicit sexual situations. You will be notified when they happen at the beginning of chapters, and they will be separated by a break if you choose to skip them. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy.

You know that feeling when you walk into a party and just know something bad, or weird, or dangerous is going to happen? Yeah, that's exactly how I felt walking into this party.

It was Rick's 21st birthday. He could now legally destroy his liver and no one could stop him. Zech, an alien friend of ours, decided that a surprise party in Rick and Stanford's apartment was the ideal way to celebrate. Stanford only agreed if the noise stayed at a relatively low level, but as this party had aliens invited and drunk college students, he quickly gave up on the hope of a tame gathering.

I parked my car outside the apartment building. It was chilly out. I could see my breath as I blew out and tucked my hands into the pockets of my red jacket. I hadn't been to this place since mine and Ford's birthday a few months prior. The rundown sidewalk and unkempt yard was just as I remembered it. It was a nice sense of familiarity since my life hadn't seen anything close to routine in a while. It was nice to see some things hadn't changed. I went up two flights of stairs and counted down four doors. Faint music could be heard outside the apartment door. Which was a surprise when I opened the door and heard just how loud it really was in there.

I walked in and saw streamers and balloons everywhere, loud music was blaring through the speakers, and everyone there was running around with either a pipe or solo cup in hand. This was a 'Rick' party for sure.

After a few hellos to some people and creatures I recognized, I found Fiddleford McGucket, my brother's best friend. He was wearing a button up shirt with a sweater vest and bowtie. His normal business casual attire seemed fitting for a rowdy, disgusting, college party I guess. Another nice since of normalcy in my messed up life. Fighting through the sea of creatures and college students, I strolled up to him.

"Hey McGucket, how you holding up with this?" I shouted over the music as I touched his shoulder.

I must have startled him, because he nearly jumped out of his shoes with a yelp. He looked at me, let out a short sigh, adjusted his glasses and spoke. "Stanley, I give up. I tried to keep the noise down, but that is just not going to happen." He glared at a group of people behind him. There are too many aliens, and people, and I mean what is that?" He pointed at an octopus looking creature currently chugging as much as it could out of the beer keg as a surrounding crowd cheered it on.

I laughed a little at his look of shock at the alien. I guess I was just numb to the space and weird stuff at this point. After years of Stanford talking my ears off at night and Rick's constant jabbering about stars and space travel, nothing really surprised me anymore.

"Your guess is better than mine, man."

I looked at him realizing he was holding a drink. "Whoa! You're drinking tonight?"

He looked down at his cup and shrugged adjusting his glasses again. "I decided I might should go ahead and finally try it tonight. I'm only having one." He assured me and sipped his drink grimacing at the taste. "You're just in time though. That guy...ummmm... Squanchy? He should be bringing Rick any minute now, so you didn't miss the 'surprise.'" He made a jazz hand gesture.

I could tell poor Fiddle was really not into this whole party scene, but he always loved surprising people, so he could at least enjoy that part. "Awesome." I replied scanning the room again. "Hey, where's Ze-"

"STANLEYYYY PINES!" A voice interrupted me.

I looked in that direction and saw Zech making his way through the crowd. "There's my main man. Glad you could make it."

Zech was an interesting guy. I'm sure Rick could tell you what species alien he was, but I had no clue. He almost could've passed for a human. Well, besides his two short antennas buried in his ruffled orange hair and his blue skin. Other than that, totally looked like a human.

We high fived and went in for a short hug. "Wouldn't miss a chance to see Rick wasted and no doubt make a fool of himself." I laughed. Seeing that Zech's green eyes held a small tint of red, I asked "You gettin' messed up tonight?"

He quickly shook his head. "Not too much man, just a slight buzz to get my courage up." He looked both ways and gestured me to get closer. "Hey-" he whispered and pulled me away from Fiddleford. "I think tonight's the night, Stan." I couldn't control them as my eyes widened in shock.

It was known that Zech had a rather large crush on Rick. (Which makes sense why he would want to be the one to plan Rick's big surprise party.) I had a hunch that Rick probably knew about Zech's feelings toward him or at least had suspicions, because on occasion he seemed to tease Zech with a flirtatious grin, laugh or comment that clearly had another meaning. Such as 'Wow Rick, you look great. Are you performing tonight?' To which Rick would respond 'maybe, if you're lucky,' and then quickly laugh it off. He never acts on anything though. So, that led Zech to do something bigger and ballsy to grab Rick's attention.

"Night for what?"

"I'm gonna do it! I'm gonna fuck Rick Sanchez." He laughed.

Um, his bluntness almost made me choke. I was shocked with his immediate jump to...well...sex instead of 'hey, I'm going to ask Rick on a date' or 'I'm going to tell him I like him.' I was a skeptical. I mean, I didn't take Rick to be the 'date' type, but at least let the dude know your feelings before...well...that.

I brushed it off. "Wow... not even gonna take him to dinner first?" I joked, trying to hide my dislike for the situation.

He let out a cackle. "Dude, I planned that bitch a surprise party. That's way better than dinner. He better put out." He laughed again. I couldn't tell if he was joking or not, but either way, something felt off.

Before I could respond with advice on how not to fuck up his chances, a voice piped into the conversation cutting off Zech's laughter. I knew this voice, but I didn't like what it said at all.

"Well, he's put out for just about everyone, and certainly for a lot less, so I'd say your chances are looking good."

I looked over to see my brother stumbling over with a near empty solo cup in his hands. His usual perfectly styled hair was in disarray, his shirt was have tucked and his glasses were sitting on his face at an angle. I had never seen my twin so thrown together. I whispered "Ford, what the hell?"

"What, Stanley?" He sighed in annoyance as he got closer. "I'm just telling you what I observe. I mean, he's my roommate, and I can tell you this, his bed is always warm." He sipped his drink again. "Ya know, cause he never sleeps alone."

I never pegged my brother as a shit talker. "Ford, c'mon knock it off. You've had enough to drink for now." I tried to laugh it off.

Ford glared daggers at me through his drunken eyes. "He gets the same gift from anyone that will give it to him. Just throw the dog another bone, Zech." Ford went in for a half assed high-five and missed.

I excused myself as I grabbed my brother and pulled him away to a quieter place in the small apartment. I've never seen my brother drink. I mean, I saw him sip something on our 21st birthday a few months ago, but I've never seen him REALLY drink, and what I was seeing, I didn't like. He wasn't himself at all. "What is with you, man? Huh?" I questioned as I straightened his glasses.

Stanford sipped his drink, seemingly unfazed by my attempts to make him look more like himself. "Stanley, you know how I feel about Richard." He said emotionless, and I did know. I knew he didn't care for the guy most of the time.

He didn't like that Rick was just as smart as him, and did as good in school without putting in as much effort. Nor did he like that Rick was always loud and had all his friends over all the time. He didn't like that Rick played his guitar at full volume, that Rick kept the apartment hot all the time because he claimed to always be cold. He didn't like that Rick left his clothes everywhere, or that he stole Ford's cinnamon to put into his coffee in the morning. He. Didn't. Like. Rick. I just didn't know it was to the point that he would talk about him this way to other people. I thought I was the only one he voiced his frustrations to. Ford was usually a confrontational person. Like, he would just tell Rick how he felt and then they'd hash it out as roommates and get over it.

"Ford, it's not cool to talk like that about him. I'm sure you just don't know the whole story, and you don't want to be known as someone who talks shit." I tried to smooth thing over.

Stanford chuckled and rolled his eyes at me. "I'm not saying anything that everyone doesn't already know, Stanley." He went to sip his drink again, finding it was empty. "I'm sorry if you're the last to find that out about him." He blinked slowly. "And I'm not trying to be mean, I'm just letting off steam. He's-" he searched for the right words as he dragged his hand down his face "he's just not that great a guy, Stanley."

Didn't he realize that this was the same Rick we grew up with? The same Rick that shared black eyes with me standing up to someone who made fun of Ford? Was Rick really not himself anymore and I just hadn't seen it? I mean- I knew college changes people but, the Rick I always pictured was the nerd that we went to grade school with. I had seen him a few times while he was in college, but he didn't seem that different to me. Just partied more. But who doesn't in college? Right? I take a breath and try to gather myself when I'm snapped out of my thoughts as paper is shoved in my hands.

Ford started to slur his words a little more. "Hey, forgetthat I s-said anything though ok? This night is supposed to be fun right?" He rolled his eyes. "This is a song that Zech wrote for us to sing. The lyrics aren't great but he thinks it w-will be funny." Ford explained as he started to sway. "Listen, I'm going to go get another drink. Do you want anything?"

"Uh, sure. Anything's good with me."

Ford nodded and disappeared into the crowd. I took a glance at the lyrics that were given to me, and realized that Ford was right. These lyrics were really, really bad. The parody was just us calling Rick a bitch, saying his dad was a dick, his mom was a hooker, and he was the most perverse person on the campus. All things I was tired of hearing tonight already. But it did seem like the kind of shit Rick would find funny. His humor was...unique. He always liked dumb things that others would probably just groan at, but would send him into a fit of laughter. Hell...were we sure he didn't write it?

After reading over the less than brilliant parody lyrics, I look over to see McGucket standing on top of the beer pong table trying to get people's attention. The players groan in annoyance as Fiddleford tries to get everyone's attention. "Hey guys, lets bring the music down ok?" He said politely. And after he repeated it a few times to deaf ears and finally ended up screaming, they did. "Ok. That's better. So, Squanchy is bringing Rick up now. So everyone get in places, turn off the lights and-"

"And make sure you sing the song out real loud everyone!" Zech yelled across the room. There was an array of 'whoos,' profanities and screams throughout the small apartment, as I saw Ford returning and handed me my drink.

"Thanks Ford."

He mumbled a response and started to drink again. Suddenly a redheaded girl shoved a tray in my face. "Hey! Birdperson made brownies! They're dope!" She yelled.

"Ah. No thank you. I'm good tonight."

She lowered them from my face and then offered them to Ford, who extended his hand towards the tray. I steered his hand away. Deciding that drunk Ford was already a little unbearable. I didn't want to know what a crossfaded Ford was like. The girl got the hint and went off. Stanford looked at me again.

I sighed and tried to steady my swaying twin. About that time, we saw Zech walking by not very discreetly with some condoms. Ford stopped his momentum and started talking to him.

Touching the small plastic packages, he slurred. "Zech...woooow. Are you feeling extra lucky tonight or something?" I was really starting to hate drunk Ford.

Zech laughed. "Yeah. Kind of am actually."

"And with Sanchez...right?"

Zech nodded. "Uh, yeah?"

Ford wrapped his arm around Zech's shoulder.

"Well in that case...I would wear three." Ford cackled pointing at the condoms.

Before I could scold my twin again, (Wow I never knew the roles would be reversed) someone's voice piped up above the crowd.

"They're here guys! Places!"

I looked over my lyrics as we all started to get in our 'surprise' positions. Everyone was talking or shushing the people talking as we all huddled close. Zech scooted next to me, Ford and McGucket. "Dude, when he sees this surprise party, he's gonna die!" He whispered.

"We should be so lucky." Ford mumbled. I gave a harsh glance over at him but he just looked at me and shrugged.

"Everyone shut up!" A girl voice screamed.

We heard mumbled voices and laughter as the door was being unlocked. We all sat in anticipation as the door was opened and we saw two silhouettes.

"Come on Rick! Squanch on the lights! It's dark!"

The lights flashed on and everyone stared at a very confused looking Rick Sanchez. He started laughing as everyone screamed the terrible lyrics at him. It was clear he didn't know what we were actually saying due to the pink tint of his eyes and how large his pupils were, but he seemed amused nonetheless. He stumbled around laughing and clutching his stomach at his friends as we all finished the song with a resounding "Happy Birthday, Bitch!"

We all cheered at the end and Zech made a beeline for Rick.

"Happy Birthday!" Zech said as he approached the birthday boy.

A girl voice yelled as she ran up to them. "Zech planned the party, Rick!" She elbowed Zech and he stretched and flexed.

"I mean. I planned some of it."

Rick was still laughing to himself-clearly in his own world at the moment. He caught come deep breaths and tried to steady himself by placing a hand on Zech's upper chest. "Thanks, tha-thank you. This was veeery sweet." He chuckled.

Zech looked at Rick and then to Squanchy who seemed pretty proud of himself. "Um, Squanchy, he's loaded. What happened to him?"

The catlike alien placed his hands on his hips in a huff. "Well, you told me to keep him busy." Squanchy squealed in defense.

Zech rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but I didn't mean-"

"Well ya should've squanched otherwise." Squanchy said as he headed towards the drinks.

The crowd of guests swarmed around the guy of honor and I decided to stay back and let Rick's friends go up and talk to him first. I'd see him eventually. However... watching, I noticed that he kept looking my way almost asking with his eyes if I was going to say 'hi'. So, I nodded and gestured with my cup. Hoping he'd get the message that I'd talk to him after. Almost instantly, Zech was blindfolding Rick and spinning him around. On the other side of the room, an alien was bringing out a piñata shaped rather like a...well...a male organ... it was...umm...uh...a penis. It was shaped like a fucking penis. Dear God, this party was getting weird, and that was coming from ME! I feel a hand on my shoulder, and turn to see Fiddleford eating something.

Thankful for something to get my attention off the 'main event' of the party, "Hey man, whatcha got there?" I scream over the music.

His eyes are wide and he starts laughing holding what I now realize is a brownie... "Stanley! These are sooooo good." He laughs again.

I groan. I didn't come to this party to babysit. "You do know those are pot brownies, right?" Fidds was mid bite when I asked so I got a muffled

"Oops" as a response before I decided I needed to figure out how many he had that night.

As I tried to push him to the couch he stops and turns to me with a scream. "Stanley, did you see the piñata?"

Groaning at my interrupted momentum to the couch, "Yeah Fidds, I did. It was-uh-pretty crazy." I laughed uncomfortably.

Fiddleford laughed genuinely with me and then leaned in close. "Yeah, haha, I wish Ford's piñata was that big!" He snickered again.

"OKAY. Nope." I held up my hands in front of me. "Enough of that. I don't want to talk about this anymore." God, this party was making me so uncomfortable. It seemed like I was the one holding it all together, and I DID NOT sign up for it.

The party went on with few hiccups after that. I mean Fiddleford did clear out most of the chips, and people took time giving the birthday boy lap dances (who I still hadn't gotten to wish a happy birthday to do to my babysitting gig with the other two nerds.), a couple of people had asked Rick to do shots with them which he was more than happy to do, and a hivemind showed up after the piñata game had ended. But other than that, the party seemed to be going rather well. I needed a smoke break after getting Fiddleford to finally sit down though, so I pushed open the sliding door and went out onto the small patio they had outside to enjoy my reward to my myself.

The night was peaceful. So much quieter than inside, that was for sure. I was surprised how well that little sliding door held all the noise inside. It was so muffled I could barely hear it, much less make out what song was playing. I lit my cigarette and relaxed looking out at the foggy night air when the door slid open behind me. "God, McGucket," I groaned. "I told you to stay on the couch." I heard a small chuckle as the door was slid shut.

"Guess again, Pines." A familiar voice spoke up. I turned around and saw Rick standing there holding the door handle. Finally getting a good look at him I saw that he was wearing a blue tank top and black vest, ripped black skinny jeans and some black combat boots. He looked smaller than I remember, but then again, it had been a little while since I'd seen him.

"Rick, hey man!" I exclaimed, not only because I was happy to finally talk to my friend, but also do to relief that it indeed wasn't Fiddleford. "Happy Birthday! I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner."

Crossing his arms, Rick responded. "Yeah, I was wondering when you were gonna talk to me." Rick stepped up next to me putting his hands on the railing. "Your ass has been f-fucking avoiding me all night." I rubbed the back of my neck and shrugged, grinning awkwardly. "Gonna share?" He gestured to my box of cigarettes. "It is my birthday." I smiled and pulled one out. He lit it taking a deep breath and exhaled into the cold autumn air. The smoke seemed to dance under the streetlights that shined down on their rundown sidewalk.

"So, how have you been, Lee?" He asked, making sure to really hit the nickname he had given me years ago.

I looked at him. "Ya know. I can't complain too much. Things have been better, but have been a lot worse ya know? Just living it up right now. Staying on the road with the Stanmobile."

"Still a dumb name."

"She's my baby, don't talk about her that way." I defended. "Besides, you named her." I inhaled again as I grinned.

He exhaled again as he murmured something in agreement. An uncomfortable silence made itself known as we stood there. I couldn't put my finger on why things felt so uncomfortable so quickly. "What about you? How's school?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Rick laughed sarcastically. "School's not a place for smart people, Stanley. You're lucky you figured that out sooner than me."

I was taken aback. Did Rick just kind of say that I'm smart? Me, smart? That had to have been the drugs and alcohol talking.

"But, you and Ford, you guys love science and stuff. Isn't that what you are getting to do?" He scoffed. " Are you guys are still tied for that Valentinorian thing? Like smartest class person?" I pried.

"Valedictorian." Rick corrected. "Emphasis on the, 'dick'." He inhaled again. "It doesn't mean anything. It's just a title that says you kissed the m-most ass and stayed up the latest working on homework that was pointless anyway."

"Well, to some people I think that's important, Rick. I know it means the world to Ford."

Rick scoffed again. "And, no. We aren't getting to really work on science. Not the stuff I'm wanting to work on anyway." He flicked the end of his cigarette and ashes fell to the ground. "Your brother doesn't care for the stuff I want to do either. I-I don't think he wants- don't think he likes me that much anymore."

I didn't know what to say. I couldn't tell him the things Ford had told me in confidence. But, I mean, he was a friend of mine too. Gah! I didn't like being in the middle of things. I finally decided to just let it hang there. "Well, you have always done whatever you wanted to, Rick, especially with all your science stuff. And if that title really doesn't mean anything to you, maybe you could just let him have Valdic-Valent.." I stopped. Rick stared at me. "The ass-kissing award thing."

Rick laughed again. "Haha and let your brother have something over me? No way, Pines. It's too much fun pissing Ford off, and holding this-holding that over his head is the easiest way to do it."

I looked at him and he looked at me as we started laughing softly. We laughed for a second, then continued to smoke. Standing in silence, I saw Rick occasionally looking over at me like he wanted to say something. At first I thought it might just be because he was drunk and/or high, but after like the third time, I figured it was because he really did have something to say. He was really trying to keep his cool, and while he was a fantastic liar, I'd known him for way too long for him to successfully hide something from me. Something was eating at him, and I didn't like seeing him this way.

"Is McGucket okay?" He asked running his hand through his wild hair. "Saw him giving you a diffi-a hard time."

That wasn't what he wanted to say. I inhaled my new cigarette. "Yeah, he's just fucked up."

"Well, that makes two of us." Rick turned his head away, and I turned to say something about what drugs Squanchy had given him when the door slid open again. Zech slipped outside with a loud laugh.

"Hey! There you are, Rick. I was looking all over for you! You coming back inside?"

I saw Rick tense up when he heard Zech's voice."In a sec-in a m-minute, Zech." He responded without looking up.

"Come on Rick, come dance with me. Leave old, Pines out here. Sure he's boring you with his stories." He laughed loudly.

Rick refused to look at Zech. Again, I couldn't tell if it was the drugs he had been given making his eyes dance around or if he was simply avoiding Zech on purpose, but Rick's eyelids looked heavy as he finally turned his head to face Zech.

"Zech, next song. I'll find you." He inhaled his cigarette again.

"You might not be able to." Zech chuckled "You know with the being high and drunk and...you know.." he rambled. He chuckled awkwardly again as Rick stared at him. He tried to recover by coughing and finally reached for Rick. "Anyway, I was thinking Rick, maybe later you and I could-"

"Zech," Rick cut him off and exhaled slowly. "-I'm talking to later." He half whispered as he gestured slightly towards, surprisingly, me...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the reviews. Things get a little fluffy in this one, as Rick is drunk and whiny. Still in Stan's POV right now.

Zech stared at Rick. His mouth hung open as his eyes lifted back up to look at me. He looked as shocked as I felt. Did I hear Rick correctly? Me...he wanted me?

Zech turned back to look at Rick. There was a standoff as Rick practically threatened Zech with his stare before Zech scoffed in defeat and mumbled something under his breath. He gave me one more look, like I had betrayed him. Then, he harshly turned his back to us as he opened the sliding door again and stormed inside. It sounded to me like he closed it with enough force to break it. I was honestly surprised it hadn’t.

Rick, now seemingly unfazed with Zech gone, took another drag of his cigarette before turning his attention forward again. He exhaled slowly and flicked the end over the balcony as he finally turned towards me. I was still looking at the door Zech had gone through. I’m sure my face showed my shock. “What do you say, Pines? W-w-what if we make later sooner?” Rick asked confidently.

I didn’t think my eyes could physically get any bigger, but I’m sure they did. I shook my head and tried my best to focus on Rick’s question. “I kind of...want something” he said and glanced down quickly at my jeans and returned to my eyes just as quick, hoping I took the hint. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. Rick, putting a hand on the rail to steady himself, was just starting to feel those last few shots he had taken I guess. He closed his eyes for a moment trying to gather himself, but his eyes were starting to swim. “I-I-I’ve waited the whole party for us to be alone.” He said forcing down the wave of nausea that made itself known. I stared at him dumbfounded.

I opened my mouth to say something, but stopped myself and instead chose to finally look down and take another drag from my cigarette almost turning away from Rick completely. I found myself very nervous. I didn’t know if I should say something, run away, or just laugh and see if it was a joke. “Orrrrr maybe you haven’t noticed how I stare at you?”

I started coughing and choking. Stare at me? Like just tonight??

I heard a drunken chuckle from the nerd next to me. “Are you- are you scared, Pines?” Rick snorted.

“Why?” I finally wheezed out trying to collect myself. “Should I be scared?” I asked honestly.

“I don’t know” Rick ran his right hand through his thick hair. His left was still clutching the railing. “But, I don’t think you’re actually surprised.”

“At what?”

“That I want to kiss you...” He stared at me and drunkenly leaned in closer before taking my hand in his hand. “I-I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long”. His body was starting to tilt. Those last three shots really had him in the pocket, and he was having a hard time standing straight. I’m sure Rick’s stomach was regretting that hivemind convincing him to do a shot with every one of its assimilated beings that had attended the party.

He kept his hand in mine. Running his thumb in small circles on the back of my hand. A gentle touch from Rick was foreign to me. Hell, it was foreign to most people. I froze. His small gentle movements hypnotized me in the moment. What do I do? Do I do it back? Do I talk to him? Do I pull away?

The last option was the on my body almost did. I barely took my hand out of Rick’s when I saw him drop his head drunkenly and stare at my hand. It was only in that moment that I realized he was now gripping it as tightly as he did the railing of the balcony. It made me feel like I was helping him from falling.

I breathe in deep as I stared at him...

I didn’t know what to say... Rick, my best friend probably at this point if I didn’t count Ford, was hitting on me. What a night this turned out to be. Huh?

That’s what he had wanted to say tonight. That’s why things were so weird between us a little while ago. That’s why he was trying to get my attention all night. How did I not notice? Oh. My. Gosh...has he hit on me before, and I just haven’t noticed? So much was happening all at once. I mean.... I don’t _think_ I have ever thought of him that way... I’m... but come to think of it-God, I don’t know. My head was in twenty different places it felt like. I was racing through memories trying to see if there was something hidden that I had missed. Laughing at my stupid jokes, playfully arguing with me, helping me with my homework, offering to be my tutor, subtle compliments about how ‘red was definitely my color’...yeah... I was finding a lot of hidden things. How had I not noticed?

But...He’s my friend...

I pull my thoughts back to reality to see that his eyes were still staring at my hand. And while they were lightly painted pink, his eyes were as dark as ever.

His eyes.

My thoughts take me to an old memory.

I remembered one time in high school we had fought off these three bullies, and Rick had walked away with a pretty nasty looking shiner. His Ma had freaked out when we got to his house, and she was nursing his eye as she fussed at him. Of course he just shrugged it off as no big deal and spat out some snarky comment that I couldn’t remember, but what I did remember was his eyes. Yeah, that was the moment that I got my first good look at his eyes.

I remember sitting in his house and, staring into them and thinking that they didn’t seem to end. They were like a bottomless pit or the night sky. I remembered thinking about everyone else’s eyes I had ever seen. Carla’s brown ones that reminded me of chocolate and candy, Ford’s identical ones to mine, Diane Pritchard’s blue ones that looked like a swimming pool, but Rick’s were different. They just kept going. I remembered how cheesy I thought it all sounded, but I just stared at them and stared at them... I had never noticed them before that moment, I guess. I don’t know how long I was staring, but I was finally snapped back to the conversation when I heard Rick’s full name ring out in their kitchen. Obviously, Rick had used some choice words in front of his ma, and she wasn’t happy. He groaned as he held the bag of frozen peas against his swelling eye. And gave a glance at me and then rolled his eyes...well eye? And mumbled a “she’s so dramatic.”

Yeah...those were the same eyes that were locked on my hand in his. Rick finally glanced up at me, his eyelids only half open, and he was starting to drunkenly sway back and forth. I looked at him in his drunken state, and despite what I was, surprisingly, feeling... I couldn’t.

“Rick, you’re wasted.” I say as I grip his hand tighter with mine and hold my other hand against his shoulder trying to steady him.

I see him note that my hand is now gripping his as tight as his gripped mine. Rick’s gaze travels up my arm, over my chest and meets my own pair. His intent shifts and I feel as though he might say something, but instead, he just shushes me and starts going back in through the sliding door with me in tow.

He lead me through the crowd past Fiddleford still on the couch (thank God) and right past a very angry looking Zech, and his friends. Juking past the other partygoers, he took me down the hallway and opened the door to his room where we found Squanchy and some chick making out on Rick’s bed.

It was almost like a Looney Tunes moment. The two of them immediately stopped and looked at us, as Squnachy gave a quick embarrassed chuckle. Rick just leaned against his doorframe for support, putting all of his drunken weight on the frame.

He looked at the couple said deadpanned at Squanchy. “Out.” And, after a whirlwind of a scramble, the girl and furry alien both giggled and passed by us. My eyes followed them out and Squanchy gave me a thumb’s up as he ran off with the girl. I take a breath to say something. Before I could respond though, Rick not-so gracefully pulled me into his room.

I stumbled in and looked around. It was dimly lit with a string of Christmas lights and a desk lamp on his nightstand. It was decorated wall to wall with band posters, blueprints, and scribbled notes in Rick’s messy hand writing, which he no doubt wrote in the middle of the night when he woke up with an idea for an invention, a stupid joke, or a song and didn’t want to forget it.

He had a few clothes thrown around on his floor like: his band crop top, his flannel pajama pants Ford got him because he was tired of walking into the kitchen to find Rick with nothing but his boxers on, oh what a great Christmas. And the last scrap of clothing I saw on the floor was Rick’s poor excuse for a jacket. It was a ratty old denim one that he had since high school. I should have bought, well...stole, him a jacket for his birthday. He was usually complaining about being cold anyway. I should have thought of that. I make a mental note, and I am yanked out of my ideas as a whine rang out in the room.

“Braaaawwns” Rick whined as he went to sit at the edge of his bed. “Come heeeere.” He sat down and looked up at me drunkenly.

I looked at the birthday boy in front of me. He looked very pleased with himself for making it to his room without falling. I hated to wreck his happiness. I sighed. “Rick, this is wrong.” I said softly as I closed the door. He just kept looking at me. I studied the look on his face. Just like I thought. He looked sad. I really didn’t like him looking sad. It didn’t suit him.

He blinked very slowly; his eyes fighting to stay open. “But w-why?”

Oh no. I forgot that drunk Rick can be really emotional and whines a lot when you get him alone. This was New Year’s all over again. “Why? Well Rick,” I swallowed hard trying to think of what to say and how to say it. “It could wreck a friendship for one...”

He chuckled to himself, rubbing his right eye sleepily. “I don’t think-don’t know about that, Stanley.” He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “ I think you’re at least intrigued. I know I’m riiiiiight.”

Intrigued? Psh! Well, of course! But, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. A million thoughts raced through my head, and I couldn’t think clearly. But, yes, I was intrigued. I wanted to see what would happen. See if this was just him being drunk or if he really meant it when he said he had wanted to kiss me for a while now. And, I can’t lie. In that moment, I kind of wanted to kiss him... I stared at his lips as I thought about the whole, situation. Damn him.

“Oh yeah? And why is that exactly, smarty?” I said more flirtatiously than I expected.

He glanced down at my lips and back up to my eyes. “ I see what you’re staring at.”

I blushed and immediately pulled my eyes away from his lips. Looking anywhere and everywhere but at Rick. A small pause filled the room. I see out of the corner of my eye that he’d leaned back on his bed holding himself up by his elbows. His legs were hanging off the edge of the bed. “Is that life s-s-stirring in your jeans there, Lee?” He gestured to my crotch as he chuckled lightly.

I hastily tugged the bottom of my jacket over the lower half of myself and sat down on the bed. The bed bounced slightly at my now added weight to its frame. I’m sure my cheeks matched my jacket’s bright red hue as I tried to start a conversation to get my growing excitement to calm down.

“So! Um, uh. Ford told me you guys were now taking a French kiss-um- uh-a-French CLASS!”

Well... damn it.

I bury my head in my hands and drag my hands down my face at my word fumble, so much for trying to stay cool. Rick had brought his legs up to himself and now had his hands and knees on the bed and slowly crawled towards me.

“It’s been a rough day, Leeee.” He slurred seemingly unaware or unfazed by my word slip.

Him crawling towards me was not helping my growing problem. Not. At. All. I mentally screamed at myself. I never thought he and I would be in this situation. Hell, I never thought _I'd_  be in this situation with _any_  guy. But I mean, and it might have been the heat of the moment, but...I couldn’t deny how I was reacting towards him. Had I always been attracted to him? Maybe I just pushed it aside and didn’t think about it. Or, maybe I was just lonely from being alone on the road for so long and was simply reacting this way because of it. Or, maybe I had, unbeknownst to me, always been attracted to him. Still... He was drunk. He was high. This was wrong.

I turned my head finally to look at him trying to sway the conversation again. “Did you, um, make a birthday wish?”

Without missing a beat he responded, “Oh, yeah.” He got closer “Want me to say-to tell you what it was?” He leaned in and whispered in my ear. I didn’t think my cheeks could go any shades darker but I’m sure they did in that moment. What he said was short but full of poetic and detailed imagery. When he had finished he relaxed back to sit on his knees and looked in my eyes trying to read my reaction to his ‘wish’.

I awkwardly chucked and pulled at my jacket collar. “Rick, I don’t think that’s legal here.”

“Never stopped us.”

Silence hung heavily in the small space between us. We just stared at each other, both taking in the situation that we had found ourselves in.

I finally broke it with a defeated sigh. “Rick...you’re drun-“

“Don’t you want to kiss me, Lee?” His question was soft, desperate, and sad, almost like he was expecting me to say ‘no’. His eyes fell down to stare at my lips again.

My eyes never left his. “Kiss you?”

His eyes came back to look at mine. “Grant the birthday boy his wish?” He whispered honestly. His tired eyes locked on mine and his posture shifted to a vulnerable, closed position. Like he was curling into himself, like a puppy with his tail between his legs. His shoulders hunched slightly and his hands clasped in his lap. His eyes held a look of uncertainty, hope, something else-UGH-God, I couldn’t take it. I had found another weakness. Heights, and Rick’s eyes.

“Ok...” I said quietly. “One kiss.”

I leaned in, pressed his lips to mine, and those dark eyes shot open wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know thoughts and I will see you guys in chapter 3.  
> -Jedwyn


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys! Little bit more strong language in this one (Rick, duh) and short, but still fluffy. We will get to the angst eventually.

I felt him press his lips to mine and my eyes shot open. Stanley Pines was kissing me... All those sleep overs during school, all the times I watched him sweet talk a girl. Hell, even when I set him up with a girl that I knew he liked. Yet, here he was, on my lips. And fuck...it was everything I thought it would be, and more. It was sappy and stupid, but I finally got him!

I had just closed my eyes and relaxed into the kiss when Stanley gently pulled away. I opened my eyes again and found him looking into mine. I could barely breathe. I didn’t know why my heart felt like it was about to jump out of my throat, or why my stomach was doing so many flips....wait... and that’s when I felt a wave of nausea hit me like a fucking train. I quickly fell off the bed, scampered to the bin next to my dresser and emptied everything that was in my stomach. Great... this was going exactly as I had planned...NOT. Stanley just started laughing.

“Wow Rick, I didn’t realize I was that bad of a kisser! Haha!!”

That bastard. I groaned weakly. “Shut the fuck up, Pines.” And threw up again.

“I mean, I never had any complaints before!” He chortled again. All I could do was groan as a half-ass response. My stomach was doing somersaults. Why, why, why did I let that hivemind talk me into taking so many vodka shots?

Stanley finally calmed down his stupid laughter to a quiet chuckle. I felt him slowly get up and come next to me.

“Ya done?” He asked rubbing my back softly. I used all of my energy and nodded once, pathetically. He slowly guided me up to a standing position by my shoulders. “C’mon lets get you cleaned up.” That’s all I remembered before everything started fading in and out.

* * *

 

Rick groaned weakly in pain as I took him into his bathroom. I got us to the sink and turned the water on. I grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the water. Looking over, I saw that Rick was starting to fall. I tried to make him stand on his own but realized soon that he was starting to pass out. “Rick, c’mon. Can you stand up for me?”

He mumbled something incoherent as his eyes remained shut. I got him to stand in front of me as I held him against my chest with one hand, and tried to clean off his face with the other one. His head lulled to one side and stayed there.

“-mm srry, Brawnss”.” He mumbled softly.

“Shh. No reason to be sorry.” I said as I led him back to his bed and sat him down. I helped him get out of his now stained tank top and vest and grabbed one of his t-shirts from his dresser. My hands grazing over his small torso. “It’s your birthday. You’re supposed to have fun.” I laughed.

He chuckled weakly. “It’s m-m-my birthdaaay.” Rick sung out softly. His eyes were still closed, and I could tell it was taking all of his power to sit up as straight as he was.

“Yeah.” I giggled at his mumbles and helped him into his t-shirt. It was then I realized that I was right. He was definitely smaller than I remember. His abdomen wasn’t toned like I remember it being. It was just small. I swear, any smaller and I would see his rib cage jutting out. It was crazy. Rick was one of the toughest people I knew back in high school. Looking at him now, I feel like I could break him if I breathed too hard... I didn’t like it... not at all. I shook the thoughts away and decided to ask him (and maybe Ford) about it later. “Do you want to sleep in those jeans or pajama pants?”

Rick’s chin started to drop to his chest as incoherent sounds escaped his lips. I stopped it from falling, and I held his face in my hands. His eyes slowly opened to look into mine. There they were...

“Deciding for you.” I grabbed the flannel pajama pants, took his combat boots off and helped him into them. His small sounds of protest or thanks (couldn’t tell which, but I knew it was one of the two) were pretty pitiful. I finally got him into something comfortable and made him lay down. I decided to clean up a little in his room. I picked things up. Looked over the posters and such he had on his wall, and I folded some clothes and put them in his dresser. As I closed the top drawer, I noticed a small frame on his dresser amongst a pile of gears and gizmos. I picked it up to examine it.

It was a picture of me, Rick, and Ford at their high school graduation. I had been the one to take it. Pretty clumsily, might I add... I couldn’t help it. I was so proud of them both. They both graduated with honors and were all decked out in fancy cords and had received big scholarships that night. Both had to give a speech as they had tied for the highest GPA. Who would’ve guessed? I had managed to be related to and friends with the two smartest guys. I was so lucky and so proud. I looked at the picture and found myself. I had a crazy smile on my face in the left corner of the photo wearing my letterman’s jacket. Ford looked annoyed as his cap was flying off cause of the wind, and Rick was in the middle looking at me, holding his cap on his head and genuinely laughing with the happiest look on his face. I couldn’t help but smile at the fond memory. We were like gods back then it felt like.

Stanford was always the smartest guy in school. Then middle school came and Rick moved to town. He and Ford were challenging each other academically from then on. They became acquaintances and would study together all the time. Wow, Rick was such a nerd back in our first years of middle school. He wore glasses, and could barely get through a sentence without stuttering, but he and I quickly became friends. The three of us were inseparable. We couldn’t be stopped or hurt. We had everything going for us all. I looked at the picture again. God, I hadn’t seen Rick smile like that in a while...

I set the frame back down gently. After I cleaned up a little more, I grabbed a glass, filled it with water and put it beside his bed. I gave the sleepy form one more look as I turned to leave. I stopped when I heard a small sound.

“Lee?” Came a quiet voice.

I turned again to look at Rick. His eyes weren’t open- he wasn’t even facing me.

“Yes, Rick?”

There was a small pause, and I thought he might have fallen asleep. As I turned to leave again I heard that same quiet voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m cold.”

Without much thought, I slowly shut the door again. I turned off his light and shuffled back over to his bed. I don’t know why I did it or what made me want to do it, but I sat on the bed, took off my shoes and crawled under the covers next to him. I looked at him, my friend, who I had... just kissed...oh man... I curled my arms around him. Within seconds I heard him snoring softly, and finding my own slumber not far behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys! Love to get feedback. See you in chapter 4.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> So, there is a short smut scene in this chapter. It is separated with breaks if you wish to skip. Brief mention of self harm, and slowly adding in plot. Thank you all!

It had been about two weeks after Rick’s birthday party, and I had been to his apartment almost every night in those two weeks. We mostly watched movies, ate pizza or take out and talked. Talked a lot. But never about what happened the night of the party. I hadn’t made a move to talk about it even though I could tell he wanted to. I was still trying to think about what Ford had said to me.

(Two Weeks Ago)  
_The morning after the party, I pulled up to the university and Rick got out of my car. Before I could drive off, he was inside my window._

_“So Lee, w-will I see you later?” He said and gestured to the passenger’s seat._

_I looked over to the passenger’s side and saw he had left his jacket. (Probably on purpose) I grabbed it for him. “Yeah, I think so.” I responded as I handed him the ratty old thing. Rick went to take his jacket from my hands but instead pulled his hand away and crossed his arms and leaned against them on my window._

_An sneaky grin made its way on his face as he leaned in. “Nope. Try again.”_

_I rolled my eyes and chuckled in defeat. “Alright! Yes. Okay? You’ll see me later.”_

_Rick smiled victoriously. “Okay, I won’t push for a time frame, Brawns. But...I’m free tonight-” he leaned in close and took his jacket. “-just so you know.” He winked and went off towards the campus. About that time I see Ford glaring in Rick’s direction and coming over to my car._

_“Stanley.”_

_“Hey Sixer! What’s-“_

_“Where did you go last night? You told me you were leaving.” He interrupted._

_“I crashed in Rick’s room.” I replied taken aback by his immediate harsh tone._

_“Oh, really?” He asked. I could tell it wasn’t meant to be an actual question. He was about to scold me about something._

_“Yeah. Too tired to leave and so I stayed.”_

_He scoffed and shook his head. “Whatever you say, Stanley.”_

_“What?”_

_“You know exactly ‘what’. I can’t believe you would-“ Fiddleford yelled for my brother and said something I couldn’t hear. He was standing in front of the school and gesturing at Ford. “I don’t have time for this. I have to go to class.”_

_“No. What, Stanford? I want to know.”_

_He turned back towards me again. “Just...” he breathed in deeply. “Think about it first, Stanley. Really think about it.” He turned on his heel and headed to campus with a worried looking McGucket following behind him._

What is there to think about? We didn’t do anything. I mean...we kissed. We kissed once. But that was it. Still, I decided to take my brother’s advice and ‘think about it’ and not mention anything about it to Rick. I hated keeping Rick in the dark, but I didn’t want him thinking he did anything wrong or that it affected our friendship. I was just...I just needed to work all of _this_ out. It was a personal thing. Not Rick’s fault.

Today, we were at their apartment watching a movie. He sat next to me one leg lazily propped up on the couch the other dangling off the front. I noticed he had been inching his way closer as the movie went on, and now, half way through the movie, his thigh was touching mine.

“She’s gonna die.” Rick said bluntly gesturing to the screen. I am yanked out of my deep thoughts and my attention is back on the movie. Some horror flick. I couldn’t even remember when we turned it on. “She’s the slut, the slut i-i-is the fir- the sluts always die.” Sure enough, we heard a scream and the monster brutally killed the young girl in the movie. “Told you.” He said, grabbing another piece of pizza and stuffing it in his mouth.

I turned my attention away from the movie, and instead I watched the screen light up his face. It seemed like it was highlighting specific parts of his face or attire, like it was trying to make me notice things. And of course it worked. He had a very faint small scar on his left cheekbone. I would have to ask about that. He had dark circles under his eyes. That was normal because Rick normally stayed up late working and/or partying, but they were a very dark shade of...dark today. Had he always worn that many black bracelets on his wrists? When was the last time he took them off in these two weeks? Then, I, again, got stuck on looking in those eyes of his. God, I’m a sap. I also realized that when he smiled he had a dimple on his right side. Why was I noticing these now? Ughh! Okay. Ford was right.

I really needed to think about this. Ok. Cons: If I started any kind of... anything with Rick, it could end with us hurting our friendship, which I truly treasured. It could cause some internal confrontation because I thought I was straight. Don’t know if I want to discover these things about myself right now. I planned to leave and travel in the Stanmobile soon. It would be a real dick move on my part to start something with him just to leave him... plus...he’s my best friend...

Now, on the other hand...

Pros: I am JUST now realizing that I am really attracted to him. We know each other. We’ve seen each other at some of our best and most of our worst. I know his family already, and he knows mine. So...wouldn’t have to have that awkward ‘my family is crazy’ talk. He’s smart, he’s funny, he’s...he’s my best friend- “AHHHHHH”

I am shoved out of my thoughts when I hear Rick screech. I shake my conversation with myself away and see the pizza box slung in the air as he quickly covered his eyes. I look on the screen expecting to see a terrible monster, or a terrifying clown, but what I did not expect to see was...a pirate.

I pause the movie. “Um, Rick? You oka-“

“D-D-DON’T PAUSE I-IT THE—ON THAT!” Rick interrupted. I hadn’t realized he had looked in between his fingers at the screen and covered them just as fast.  
I started to laugh a little. Could it be? “Rick Sanchez, are you afraid of pirates?” I made sure to really emphasize and sing out the last word and tried to pry his hands away from his eyes. I laughed as I tugged his hands away, and saw that he kept his eyes closed.

“Stop, Pines! I-i-its not-it’s not fu- don’t laugh at m-me!” his stutter made a rather loud appearance. I couldn’t believe this. Genius student, galaxy traveling, fearless, Rick D. Sanchez was scared of pirates. Not just scared it seemed...terrified. Oh my God, this could be so much fun.

“Rick, come on. I’m not laughing at you” I lied and laughed again.

Rick shoved me away and turned off the TV. “Y-y-yes you are, you fucking liar!” He scampered over to the other side of the couch and crossed his arms.

“Rick. Come on. It was funny. I didn’t know.” I tried to calm down my laughter. “Look, I’m not laughing anymore, you big baby.”

He wouldn’t look at me and instead curled up closer to himself. “Y-y-you s-sucking SUCK, Pines. I never- I didn’t make fun of your fear of heights.”

I scoffed. “I mean, yeah, but that one is common. I have never heard of someone being afraid of...pirates.” I chuckled again at the thought and scooted closer to him. He shot me an evil glare and tried to scoot further away from me. I think mainly to prove a point, because he couldn’t go anywhere. The armrest was in the way, and so he didn’t go much further. I got right next to him. “Riiiiick” I sang out annoyingly into his face. “Rick, you can’t just ignore me.”

He put his hand on my face and tried to force me backwards. “Go away. I-I don’t want to talk to you.” I grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer to me, forcing his eyes on mine. He scowled and struggled to get away, pushing and pulling on my chest and arms trying to escape. “L-let go of me.” I didn’t. Instead, I whirled his arm around his head and put him in a headlock.

“Not until you stop pouting and be happy!” I shouted over his angry growls. He stopped for a moment and then shoved his bony elbow right in my gut. I groaned in pain and instinctively let him out of the lock to cover my aching abdomen. I looked up and watched Rick as he scurried away on the other side of the coffee table. He had a hand on his hip and breathed heavily even though he stood triumphantly, and stuck his tongue out at me with a resounding ‘ha. ha.’

“Oh ho ho, you’ve done it now, Sanchez.” I laughed and jumped over the small table, catching the bastard off guard. I tackled him to the floor and we started wrestling. We were rolling back and forth, growling and laughing at the other. We used to play fight all the time growing up. Then of course, there were the actual fights we got into in school. This was just taking me back to all of that. As we fought, I caught Rick off guard while he was in a fit of laughter and pinned him to the floor with his wrists secured beneath my palms. I felt his tummy bounce with every one of his honest chuckles. We both slowed down to soft breathy laughs as we looked at each other. I saw him genuinely smiling and he looked so happy. This look on him was my favorite.

I remember growing up thinking that Rick was hiding something from me. Hell, from the world. When I’d see him in the hallway getting books out of his locker, or going into the band room for lunch, it always seemed to me like he was unhappy. But the minute someone went up to talk to him, he would put on a fake smirk and cool guy attitude that fooled everyone. I never knew what made him so sad, but I remember hating seeing him like that. I much preferred the happy and genuine Rick that was under me currently. Oh God...under me...he was under me.

It was then I noticed that I was still on top of him, and I found myself really not wanting to get up. Or move t all from the position I found us in. Rick’s piercing gaze held my attention. I could only wonder what he was thinking about all of this.

(Rick's POV)

  
I could only wonder what Stanley was thinking about all of this. I mean, for fuck’s sake, I just want to talk about that night at my party. Did something happen? I know we kissed before I blacked out. I woke up that next morning with the WORST hangover and Stanley’s arms wrapped around me. So, I wanted to talk about the events of that night. God! I just wanted to know what he was thinking. Was he cool that we kissed? Did he hate it? Did I kick him in his sleep? I just wanted him to briefly mention that night, but he wouldn’t. It was so frustrating.

I look at him. His eyes are transfixed on me. He grinned at me and began to lean down. Next thing I knew, Stanley was leaning down to my ear. I gasped slightly as I didn’t expect to be that close to his lips for a while. He leaned down and whispered in my ear very softly, “Pinned ya, Sanchez.” Well, shit...I picked the wrong pants for today.

I felt my excitement growing, and in the grey sweatpants I was currently sporting, I’m sure Stan did too. I saw his eyebrows raise, and he looked at me. ‘Well, what the hell?’ I decided and leaned in close to him. He leaned in. We were close. Our lips were mere inches apart. I could feel his breath dance across my lips. Then...

Ford swings open the door to our apartment, and I feel Stanley jolt up.

“Aaaaaand that is how you...erm...pin someone in under four seconds, Rick Haha!” He said, obviously trying to make a cover. Sixer looked at Stanley and then slowly brought his eyes down to me and scowled. He was pissed. “I was showing him how to pin someone, Ford.” Stanley declared.

Ford put his keys on the kitchen counter and looked suspiciously at us. “Uh huh. I guess educating yourself in that skill is more important than our meeting about our group presentation and project right, Rick?”

Shit. “That was today?” I asked sarcastically, knowing full well that it was and I had forgot. I really didn’t need this right now. Granite, I really didn’t need to be on Ford’s bad side either, but...choices. “Oh noooo, I completely forgot. Oh, whatever will I do since I didn’t attend a meeting with the person I live with and McSuckit who basically lives here too? How will I EVER know what I am doing for this stupid project? I can never obtain this information now!” God, I could be a dick. I can’t help it. Things just piss me off, man, and being a dick is my go-to.

“I get it, Richard. You don’t want to do the project with us. That’s fine. Fail the class. Professor Lloyd isn’t going to let you keep missing class without punishment much longer.”

I get up and sit on the couch. “News flash, Sixer, I am a genius! I don’t need this class any way. I don’t need your stupid project. You need me.”

Ford leaned on the counter and glared at me. “Oh, don’t give me that. You are here for grant money, same as me. And you think I need you to be able to get it? Get over yourself.” Ford scoffed again and adjusted his glasses. “And News flash, Richard, you can’t get the grant money if you don’t show up and prove your work ethic.” He gathered his backpack and books and headed towards his room. “So, I would stop...fooling around,” he punched that last part, making sure I heard it “and actually try for once if I were you.”

“Come on Ford, who are you trying to kid? You’d still be a grouchy little BITCH, if you were me. You’d just have a normal amount of fingers, weirdo.” I yelled over my shoulder as he opened his door and slammed it midway through my sentence. I scoffed and looked for the remote. Stupid Ford, ruining a potential moment for me. Like, come on.

“Rick, you don’t talk like that to Ford.” Stanley piped in immediately.

I looked at him, slightly shocked. “Oh, come on Stanley. I’ve called you a ‘bitch’ too. Don’t get jealous.” He glared at me. I’ve seen his warning glares before, but I’ve never been on the receiving end of one. To be honest, it was kinda intimidating...and hot, duh.

“No. I mean, don’t talk that way to my brother. I don’t like it. I don’t care how long you’ve known him, or how much you two don’t get along. No one talks about my brother like that. I’m just telling you. We will have problems if you think you can talk to him that way. Consider this my only warning, man. Don’t know when you started this, but you better stop.” His voice almost reaching a shouting volume.

I scoffed again. “Where’s this coming from, Pines? Its just a joke.”

“No. Rick, Where is this, coming from?” Stanley gestured to the situation. “You and I used to beat up people that said less to Ford. Now you’re doing it? No wonder Ford thinks-“ he stopped himself. Obviously, I wasn’t supposed to know something... Ford was talking about me to people—To Stanley. Nice to know I’m a hot topic of discussion around my crush and his brother. This fucking sucked.

Stanley took a deep breath. “When did this bullshit start?” He was making an attempt to try and fix the situation then and there. I should’ve answered. Should’ve told him about that demon and that it started when Ford started judging me for shit.bt I didn’t... I just looked at him. Geez, I didn’t know that it would make Stanley so mad. Without even thinking, I half shrugged, still looking at Stan without breaking eye contact. Stanley clenched his fist, and snarled at me, as he picked up his keys and jacket and started heading towards the door.

“W-where are you going?” I was a little shook that he got so mad at me for that comment. Surely he of all people would understand how Ford could be! He could drive me nuts just as much as I did him. I mean, come on. It wasn’t even that big of an insult or anything. “We haven’t finished the movie, Brawns.”

“You finish it, Rick. I’ll let you know if I plan on coming back over.” He shut the door as he walked out.

Okay...what the fuck? How did I get here? Retrace steps...we were watching a movie, laughing, and then I went from being pinned by Stanley with a raging boner to him leaving because of one little comment I said to my roommate? None of that made sense.

“Whatever.” I mumbled to myself as I went to the kitchen to grab some whiskey. Drinking away things I didn’t want to deal with at the moment was starting to become a regular thing for me. Guess I had a lot of shit I didn’t want to deal with. I poured my drink and pressed the cup to my lips. The burn felt great. The bite really helped numb feelings and things. After my second drink or so, I looked over to my phone and for the second time that day, I decided, ‘What the hell?’

I went to find my phone numbers and skimmed to the one I wanted. I dialed it. That bitch picked up on the first ring.

“Hello?” His voice answered enthusiastically.

I swirled my glass in my hand. “Hey Zech, come over tonight.”

* * *

 

“Harder.” I panted on top of him. “Fuck me harder.”

Zech grunted in time with his thrusts underneath me. I brushed Zech’s orange hair out of his face as I leaned down and pressed my lips to his. I sucked on his bottom lip and he moaned into the kiss.

Zech picked up his speed and started ramming into me—finally going the pace I needed. I close my eyes and start to move my hips to compliment his thrusts. Till Zech takes hold of my hip bones and holds me steady, clearly chasing his release. “Rick, you feel-god-sh-shit!” Zech moaned. “I’m-I’m gonna-ahhhhh.” He slammed into me hard one more time and shot his load deep inside me. I tried to stifle a moan as I rode him through his high and slowly brought him down. He finally slid out of me and pulled me down next to him on my bed.

“God babe,” He exhaled, running a hand down his face. “shit—you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He chuckled a little. Then looked down to see I was still very hard. “Rick, shit, did you-”

“No, It’s not a big deal.” I lied. I sat up and threw my legs over the bed. I grabbed the box of cigarettes off my nightstand, pulled one out and lit it.

Zech scooted behind me and put his arms around my waist. “Hey, I feel bad. Let me.” He snaked his hands down my torso and straight to my cock.

“Seriously,” I said exhaling my cigarette smoke in front of me before turning my head to kiss his cheek. “It’s fine. I-I was mainly just looking to get fucked tonight.” Not a total lie.

Zech began to rub soft circles on the head of my cock. “Yeah?”

I bit my lip. “Y-yeah. Just trying to-” a soft moan escapes my lips. “Trying to forget-some-some things.”

Zech grabbed the cigarette out my hand and put it out in the ashtray on my nightstand, kissing and nibbling on my neck as he did. “Forget? What are you wanting to forget baby?” He started to slowly stroke my cock. Peppering kisses on my neck as he did.  
“I can definitely help with that.” He said against my neck. I gasped and moaned louder than I would have liked. I started to squirm a little as he picked up speed. “Someone? Is it someone you’re trying to forget?” He asked, whispering in my ear. But it wasn’t Zech’s deep calming voice. It was a higher chilling voice that escaped his lips. It was then that I heard a small evil laugh, a very familiar one. That laugh...I knew it... it was just in my mind though. Right? Please not right now. Not again.  
The laughing started to go away and I was brought back to the situation when Zech sucked a preexisting bruise on my neck. My breath hitched in my throat as Zech gently pulled on the roots of my hair. I softly moaned. I was getting close. “Hmm? Yeah, Rick? Wanting me to fuck you to forget?” Zech sped up again and without warning I finally reached my climax spilling all over his hand as I let out a quiet contented sigh. I leaned back against Zech’s chest.

“Yeah.” I panted. “Something like that.”

* * *

  
We lied down and smoked for a little while after. Zech ran his fingers playfully through my hair. God, I was a sucker for my hair being touched. It was calming and could easily put me to sleep when played with, and a major turn on when pulled.

“Tonight was fun.” He said softly. I hummed in response, leaning into his touch. “We should do it again sometime. Hm?”

I exhaled. “Yeah, maybe.” He continued to run his fingers through my hair and I started to drift off to sleep when he suddenly stopped.

“Hey, Rick?”

“Hm?”

“Weird question, but, is part of your hair blue?”

Damn it. I sat up on the bed. “Nah man. It’s just the lighting in here.” I lazily gestured to the Christmas lights around my room. “Like, your hair looks almost green right now.” I lied.

“Really? Interesting.” We sat in silence a little longer, before I piped up.

“Listen, not that I haven’t had fun and all, but I’m like reaaally bad with the whole m-m-morning after thing. So, not to be rude, but could you... ya know.” I gestured to the door.

Zech stammered. “Uh, um...yeah. Yeah, that’s fine.” I could see he was hurt by me asking him to leave. He got up and started to get dressed. “Do you want to...” he cleared his throat. “...do this again?”

I exhaled. “Yeah, sure, whatever. I’ll call.” Zech got his stuff and leaned down to kiss me. I leaned up and made it a quick one, probably not hiding it very well that I didn’t want it.

“Okay. Bye I guess.” Zech tried to smile, turned and went out my door. I heard him teleport home a few moments after he reached the hallway. I finished my cigarette and put it out. Groaning, I got off the bed and went to my bathroom.

I shuffled in there and looked in the mirror; ran my fingers through my hair and inspected it. Sure enough...

“Damn it.” I hissed. My blue roots were coming back in. I groaned and turned on the shower to get it hot. Turning back to the mirror, I ran my hands down my face. I looked at myself, really looked at myself, for the first time in a while. Damn. My muscles weren’t there anymore. I rubbed the palms of my hands in my eyes and opened them to be met with, not my usual dark eyes, but bright yellow cat eyes.

I looked in horror at my reflection. Not only were my eyes yellow, I had an evil sinister grin on my face. I tried to speak, but my voice wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t talk.

“Well, well, well, well, well, well well, Rick Sanchez. It’s been a while!” my reflection spoke.

I stumbled back. It spoke again.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised to see me. You knew it was only a matter of time. I told you I’d be back, and that I was aLwAyS WaTcHiNg!” I fell back and crashed to the floor. My reflection looked down at me and cackled.

“W-w-what do you want, Bill?” Damn my stutter for deciding to make itself known. I stood up and glared at my reflection.

My reflection, Bill, that demon, calmed down his laughing and looked back at me. “Oh, you know what I want, Sanchez. What I always want.” He crossed his arms and looked at me. “I need your mind. Your body is a plus if you’d take care of it, stupid!”

He held up his (my) wrists and tore off the bracelets I had on. I winced as I saw the marks on my reflection’s body. “Tsk tsk. I thought we talked about this, Rick. No damaging my puppet. That’s my job!” He threw his head back again and laughed. “I’ll be back Rick, and when I am, I expect you to have stopped this fooling around nonsense, and have my portal ready.” He reached out and acted like he was pulling my shirt. The next thing I knew, I was being jerked to the counter, my stomach hitting it. I winced in pain and he brought my face up to meet my reflection’s. He looked at my face and his yellow eyes trailed up to the top of my head.

“And what did I tell you about staying on top of those roooooots? Hmmmm?” He sang out. He ran his fingers through my reflection’s hair and gave it a pull, yanking me down to his level again. I let out a pained yelp. “Don’t need a constant reminder of the stupid things you’ve done.” He threw me back. “See ya soon! ReAlLy SoOn.” He laughed again. Bill snapped his fingers and a blast of light shone through the mirror. I covered my eyes and rubbed them to clear the pain the light had caused.

Damn that demon triangle. I opened my eyes and steam had covered the mirror. I cleared it away to get a look at my reflection again. Releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding, I sighed in relief at the sight of my own two dark brown eyes looking back at me. I lead my hand through my brown locks again and sighed at the blue roots.

Well, gotta dye those back tonight. I slam my fist against the mirror, almost breaking it. Honestly, I’d rather take the seven years bad luck at this point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! let me know what ya think, and I'll see you in the next chapter!
> 
> -Jedwyn


	5. Chapter 5

**9 Years Ago.**

“Hello class,” Ms. Templeton stood in front of the board and adjusted her hair to lay over her shoulder. The room was filled with jabbering students and they were not showing any signs of ending their conversations. Ms. Templeton cleared her throat and amped up her volume. “Class!!” All the students fell silent and turned their bodies to the front of the classroom. Ms. Templeton, seeming pleased with the outcome, smiled and began her sentence again.

  
“Hello class, we have a new student joining us today. I want you to all be nice and help him out on his first day here.” She turned towards the door and gestured for the student to enter. “Come on in! There’s a desk for you right over there.”

  
The door opened a little more and in walked the new student. Stanley Pines the rambunctious Pines twin was sitting in the front row of the class room in a red striped t-shirt, worn out jeans and red converse that were loosely tied. Hearing the news, he snickered and nudged his twin Stanford. “Hey, check out the new kid.” Stanford, the near complete opposite to his brother, wearing a sweater vest and button up, lifted his head at his brother’s statement and got a good look at the new student in question.

  
He was average height and had thick brown hair. His dark eyes were a striking feature outlined with thick black glasses. He was sporting a striped shirt and longer navy blue cardigan sweater. His fingerless gloves were nearly hidden due to his hands being stuffed in his sweater pockets, and his backpack was lazily thrown over his left shoulder. To Stanford, he looked like the typical punk that people saw in movies all the time. This school didn’t need one of those, c’mon. Ford scanned him and quickly rolled his eyes.

  
“This is Rick Sanchez, he just moved here from the big city.” Ms. Templeton smiled. The new kid, now known to the class as Rick, half assed a wave and was clearly hating the attention being thrust upon him. “As I told you all, be kind and help him out. Okay?” She gently laid a hand on Rick’s shoulder and pointed to a desk in the room. “That one is your desk. I have no doubt that those two will help you get to know the school.” Ford looked up and noticed that the desk his teacher was pointing to was none other than the desk behind his brother. God, that’s all Stanley needs, a punk in class to distract him even more.  
Rick strolled over to the desk behind Stanley, let his backpack loudly hit the floor and sat down, crossing his arms and leaning back.  
“Okay.” Ms. Templeton smiled and turned to the board to start writing. “All of you turn to chapter four in your books.”

  
As the students groaned and got out their books, Stanley turned around to talk to the new member of the class. “Hi!” He said with a huge grin. “I’m Stanley.”  
Rick, still fumbling around his backpack to get his supplies out, quirked an eyebrow at Stan looked him up and down and shot him a piece sign as he looked back at his stuff. “Hi, Stanley.”

  
Stanley didn’t pick up on Rick’s nonchalant attitude and was far too excited to introduce his twin. “And this is my brother, Stanford!” He gestured over to Ford.  
Neither Ford nor Rick really looked at each other at first, but Ford reluctantly turned around and spoke.  
“Hi, Richard. Nice to meet you.”

  
Rick looked at Ford and scoffed turning his attention to the board. “Rick, dude. Not Richard.”

  
Ford scowled slightly and turned to the board. Punk kid was being difficult already. He should have known. Ugh. Punks always annoyed him in the movies. They never tried, they always disturbed the class and thought they were above everyone, and yet everybody liked them. Ford was going to show him. Let this new kid really know exactly where Ford was in this class, hell, in the school; the top.

  
“Okay, based on what we know so far, make an educated guess, And Stanford, you can’t answer-“ Ford beamed with pride even though he was a little bummed about not being able to show off in front of the new kid. “When you are in outer space, would sound travel faster?” No one raised their hand to answer. Ford scooted to the edge of his seat, ready to answer the question. “Oh, come on! Someone at least try! Ummm,” Ms. Templeton scanned the room. “Cliff, why don’t you give it a shot?”

  
Cliff was exactly what you’d expect a dumb stuck up pre-jock to look like. You could take one look at the guy and know he was going to be a dick in high school. Cliff straightened up a little in his chair when he heard his name called. All the students eyes were on him as he spoke.  
“Uh, no? I guess?”

  
“Okay. And why do you think it doesn’t?” Ms. Templeton asked.

  
“Uh, because things...look like they move slow in space...cause they...like float and stuff? So...sound would be slow too-"  
The awkward explanation was interrupted by an honest outright laugh coming from the second row of the classroom. All attention shot to the origin of the hearty cackle as all the students’ eyes landed on none other than Rick Sanchez.

  
Rick was holding his stomach and hitting his desk as he continued to laugh. The rest of the class was speechless as they waited to see what Ms. Templeton would do. Rick turned around to look at Cliff, still laughing, but now, right at Cliff’s face.

 

“Because things float? That’s w-w-why sound w—would be slower?” He laughed again.

  
“Rick,” Ms. Templeton finally cut in, “we don’t make fun of other students.” Cliff death glared Rick from across the room and stood up as he snarled at the new comer.

  
“Yeah, and how about YOU come up with an answer, huh? Bet you couldn’t say one.” Cliff pointed at Rick. “Make him answer, Ms. Templeton.”  
The class started mumbling and whispering to each other, some students pointing at Rick and some at Cliff.

  
“Okay kids, quiet down.” Ms. Templeton tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at Rick. “Now, Rick I know it’s your first day, but we don’t make fun of another student’s answers” Rick rolled his eyes so quickly that no one, including Ms. Templeton, caught him. “Instead, if we disagree with an answer, we state why, and then our own opinion backed up with reasoning. So, would you mind explaining why you think Cliff’s answer and reasoning was incorrect?”

  
Rick looked around the room at all the eyes on him before scoffing, leaning back and crossing his arms again. “Sure. Whatever.” He stared down at his desk and propped his feet up on the basket underneath Stanley’s chair in front of him. “So, he’s wrong because s-sound c-c-ca-can’t- doesn’t travel at all in space.” Ford looked over at Rick. He now had his full attention. Ms. Templeton leaned in, her eyes still on Rick. She smiled.  
“Interesting, and why do you say that?”

  
Rick looked up at her briefly and then cast his eyes down to the desk again. Starting to draw things on it with his finger.  
“W-well, out there, there’s-there’s zero air. And Because sound is just vibrating air, space h-h-has-has-no air to vibrate and therefore no sound.”  
The other students looked at Ms. Templeton.

  
“That’s correct.” Ms. Templeton and Ford said in unison. Ford looked back at Rick. Easy question, but the air this kid put on was similar to his own. Ford could feel that energy coming off of him. Rick was smart. He could sense it.

  
Ms. Templeton recovered and started again. “Now, moving on with that in mind, if there’s no sound...”

  
The rest of the class went on about the same. Rick answered almost every question, and even got in to answer some before Stanford. And while Stanford admired it, he was also a little perturbed. Oh well, it was just one day.

  
As the bell rang for them to change classes, the students gathered up their belongings and headed towards the door. Rick was one of the last ones to get up. He was currently walking past the teacher’s desk trying to straighten his crumbled up class schedule.

  
Ms. Templeton noticed the young boy and called out. “Rick,” he stopped in his tracks and turned back to her. “can I talk to you for just a moment?”

  
Rick shuffled back over to her desk. He let out a sigh, pushing up his glasses. “A-Am I in trouble for m-making fun of what’s his-“

  
“No, no. Although, I won’t have that in my class for future reference.” She winked. “But, no I wanted to ask you something.”

  
Rick stuffed his hands into his sweater pockets again and looked at her. She sat down and was now eye level with her student. “You knew material that we were just going over and knew it, very well. Did your old school already touch on this unit?”

  
Rick shrugged his shoulders. “No. And to be honest, I-I don’t remember what unit they were teaching.”

  
“Did you learn it on your own?”

  
“K-Kind of?”

  
She smiled again. “So, you like science, am I right?”

 

Rick’s eyes lit up a little as he looked at her and tried not to crack a smile. “Yeah.”

  
Noticing his passion for the subject, even though he tried to hide it as best he could, she smiled at him. “Well, we have an academic team here in our middle school and need another member.” She opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a brightly colored brochure. She proudly handed it to the new student in front of her. “We meet once a week and there is a big competition we go to at the end of the year.”

  
Rick opened the brochure and his eyes danced around the different information boxes.

  
“I don’t have to have an answer right away, but I do think you would fit right in! Oh! And you already met the captain of the team. So if you have any questions, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to answer them.”

  
Rick brought his eyes back up to hers. “I did?” Captain? Ohhhhh no. Rick had a problem with authority, at least that’s what his mom and therapist told him. Ms. Templeton stood up and placed her hand on Rick’s shoulder again, guiding him to the door.

“Yes! Stanford is our team captain this year! He’s a genius.” She and Rick stood outside her door. Across the hall stood the Pines twins Rick met earlier. Ms. Templeton waved at the two boys and motioned for them to come over to her. Rick scoffed at Ford again. Genius. Right. They had no clue.

  
“Do you know where your next class is?” She asked Rick.

  
“Um, I-I-I can find my way.”

  
The twins navigated back across the hallway to Ms. Templeton’s door. It didn’t take long for Ford to notice the brightly colored brochure in Rick’s hands. I mean, he designed them after all. Ford puffed out his chest as he approached them with his brother behind him. “Yes, Ms. Templeton?”

  
“Would you two be so kind as to show Rick to his next class? I’m sure you three would get along great.” She smiled as Ford gave her a nod, looked at Rick’s crumbled up schedule and gestured for Rick and Stanley to follow.

  
“Hey Rick,” she called out again. “Just think about it.”

  
Rick looked at the brochure again and then turned his attention to Ms. Templeton. “Sure thing Ms. T.” He half mumbled so only she could hear as the bell rang indicating to hurry and get to class. Rick turned on his heel and followed the Pines twins to his next class.

  
Stanley was all too happy to show the new kid the school. He was really intrigued with him already. He seemed really smart, which would make him and Ford be friends, but he also seemed to be a bit of a trouble maker which would make him the ideal friend for Stanley as well. If Stanley played his cards right, they’d be friends in a few hours. “So, Rick,” Stanley nearly screamed at the boy next to him, “we have math next. I’m not great at math, but I’m much better at math than I am at other subjects! Are you good at math?”

  
“W-Well, I—"

  
“Oh! Heads up, Mr. Carter can be really mean. But, if you just do your work and keep your head down, he’s ok. What school did you go to?”  
“I was-"

  
“Do you play any sports?”

  
“Stanley!” Ford finally interrupted. “You’re asking questions and not even letting him answer.”

  
Stan laughed at himself as they turned the corner to enter the classroom. “Haha! Sorry dude, I don’t think sometimes.” He quickly apologized and playfully nudged Rick. Rick was about to finally say something, when Mr. Carter approached him.

  
“Sanchez I presume?” He squinted at the new student. Mr. Carter was basically a pole with arms. Super tall and SUPER skinny. His beady eyes and lack of humor didn’t help people like him at all. He wore pants that were too short and shirts that were too big. Rick got a good look at his new math teacher, adjusted his glasses and straightened his spine.

  
“Um, y-yeah.” He said.

  
Mr. Carter scanned Rick up and down. As if he was sizing up how much of a nuisance he would be. Boy, if he kept that up, Rick would make sure to be a bigger problem for the man. He had his ways to really piss off authority figures. Mr. Carter, backed up and started back to his desk. Holding up one skinny finger, he pointed at a desk in the back corner. “That’s your desk over there. Feel free to answer questions that you actually can.”

  
Rick scoffed to himself and started off towards his desk. He was kind of bummed that he wouldn’t be sitting near the twins that seemed to be the only not boring people in this school. He got close to his assigned desk, plopped down his bag and kicked it the rest of the way. This didn’t go unnoticed by Mr. Carter, which was kind of Rick’s goal. Mr. Carter glared at Rick and said in a monotone: “Mr. Sanchez, I won’t tolerate kicking things in this classroom” before turning his attention to the board.

  
Rick smirked and sat down at his desk, propping one leg up. Stanley watched the whole exchange and was trying to stifle a laugh. “Ford, did you see the new kid? He-“ Ford quickly shushed Stanley as Mr. Carter started his lecture.

  
He wrote out many equations and was briefly explaining them to the students. After a few frustrated attempts at trying to understand a harder equation, Stanley just decided to start working on a new skill. So, he was now balancing a pencil on the bridge of his nose to amuse himself. Ford had long past stopped listening to the lecture today. He already knew this stuff and could easily do it in his sleep. No need to listen. So, he was now reading a book that he found interesting to pass the time. This class always seemed to go on longer than the others for some reason.

  
The sound of pencils quickly writing and furiously erasing was bouncing of the walls of the small room as Mr. Carter scribbled another equation and sloppy answer on the board. “Annnnnd then you end up with negative eight Now moving on-"

  
“Psh. N-no you don’t.”

  
Stanley whipped his head around to the origin of the voice. He knew who it was. The new kid. Ford looked up from his book at Rick as well. ‘Here we go again... but Mr. Carter isn’t as forgiving as Ms. Templeton. Guess Rick will have to learn that on his own. ‘ Ford thought.

  
Mr. Carter turned around to look for who could have the audacity to try and correct him, in front of his class, and during a lecture.

  
“Who said that?” He questioned his students. Then he saw who the Pines twins were staring at and discovered the child that dared to try and insult him. “Mr. Sanchez?”

  
Rick looked up at him. “Yeah?”

 

All attention went back to Mr. Carter. “Did you have something to add to the subject?”

  
Rick felt Mr. Carter’s piercing gaze and it just made him upset. He had to keep his cool though. First day. Can’t start off in trouble. “I was just l-letting you know that you m-m-missed a negative way back at the beginning and so that would make it a positive eight.”

  
Ford looked at the board and quickly saw what Rick was talking about. If any mildly intelligent person was paying attention, they would have easily noticed it. It was an easy mistake, but no one else was thinking that the teacher could possibly be wrong, much less call him out on it. They just followed his lead like sheep. Mr. Carter didn’t even look at the board and instead walked down the aisle of desks till he reached Rick’s. “Are you saying I am wrong, Mr. Sanchez?”

  
Rick looked around the room at the group of students. Was this teacher really serious? He was trying to help. “Well, yeah. Y-y-your math is off and I was trying to fix it for you.”

  
“I don’t need a young student to ‘fix things’ for me. I know math. I know this is your first day, but you never try to make a teacher look like he did something incorrectly. I am right and you are wrong. That’s why you come here, to learn what is right.”  
Rick scoffed in unbelief “But dude, you’re wrong.”

  
There was some bustling and quiet noise from the class room. Mr. Carter was starting to fume. He was pissed. “If you don’t cut it out, Rick Sanchez, you will be punished.”

  
“I-I’d get punished for being smart? That’s stupid. Y-your reasoning is stupid.” He laughed.

  
Mr. Carter leaned in. “You’ll get punished for being a smart-ass!.” He hit his hand on Rick’s desk. “You are to follow my instructions. The-"

  
“E-even if your instructions are wrong?” Rick interrupted.

  
“I’m not wrong!”

  
“You are. Look at the board for two seconds a-and you’ll see that-"

  
“No!”

  
“It’s a simple mistake-"

  
“I don’t make mistakes.”

  
“Well, your mom sure did.” Rick spat out before he could stop himself. Damn it. He was supposed to not get in trouble today. Seriously? Now his stutter decided to take a break? It couldn’t stop him then?

  
The class had a collective sound of gasps, and chuckles. Mr. Carter looked around and then squinted back at Rick.

  
“Go to the principal’s office!” Mr. Carter screamed and pointed to the door.

  
Rick snatched his backpack and walked towards the door. He stopped when he got an idea. He turned towards the board.

  
Well, what the hell? He was already in trouble. No point in trying to save himself now. He strolled up to the board, grabbed a marker and re-wrote the equation with the correct answer. Then he looked at Mr. Carter, dropped the marker and shot him the bird. Stanley couldn’t contain himself and neither could the rest of the class. The room quickly filled with laughter.

  
Mr. Carter screamed and pointed at the door. “Office! Now!”

  
Rick walked to the door again without breaking eye contact or dropping his hand. “J-joke’s on you, pal. I don’t even know where the office is!”

  
“OUT!” Mr. Carter screamed again.

  
Rick finally opened the door and slammed it shut behind him.

  
As Mr. Carter walked to the front of the classroom and called the front office to let them know, Stanley snuck out the door despite his brother’s protests. He ran down the hall and finally caught up to the new kid. Rick had his hands in his pockets again and looked really sad. He was mumbling to himself as he kicked a locker on his way down the hall. Stanley loved everything that went down in the classroom. He hated Mr. Carter, because he had told Stanley something similar when he asked him for help. Carter acted as though there was only one way to learn. His way. And Stanley knew he couldn’t learn that way. He knew he wasn’t the smartest kid, that spot was reserved for his brother, but all kids were different. Surely they all learned differently too.

  
Stanley ran up to Rick who didn’t seem to notice him. “Sanchez!”

  
Rick turned to Stan and cracked a small smile. “Pines, right?” Stanley enthusiastically nodded. “W-what are you doing out of class, man?”

  
“Well, I wanted to tell you that I thought what you did was super cool back there. I told you Mr. Carter could be a real jerk.” Stanley smiled at Rick. “I’ve never seen someone stand up to him like that.”

  
Rick leaned against the hallway trophy case. “M-my-my mom says that I have a problem with-with-that-that I’m not good at following rules.” Rick’s eyes avoided Stan’s when he started stuttering worse. Stan could tell he was embarrassed.

  
“Hey man, it’s cool. I don’t do well with following rules either. That is more of Ford’s thing.”

  
Rick chuckled a little at the thought of the twins being so alike yet so very different. He saw how he could get along with both of them. They really seemed interesting. He ran his hand through his brown locks. “So, why are you out here?” He asked Stanley.

  
“I thought you might need directions to the office. I’ve gotten in trouble plenty of times.”

  
The two boys chuckled and headed towards the principal’s office talking about anything and everything that came to their minds.

  
**Present Day**

  
Ford, clutching a notebook and pencil, paced back and forth in the living room as Rick sprawled out on the floor leaning on the couch. He lazily held a binder in his lap as he watched Ford pace. Fiddleford was sitting up right in the couch above Rick and busily writing as Ford spoke proudly. “So, I was thinking that we could go through our example first and then present a black hole theory to please the crowd, and then I’d counter the theory with our new one on-"

  
“Ugh. Yaaaawn” Rick interrupted.

  
Ford sighed and cast his eyes down at Rick. They have stopped so many times today because of his shenanigans and frankly, he was sick of it. “Would I be correct in thinking that you have another idea, Richard?”

“What? Me?” Rick acted surprised by Ford’s statement. “Oh nooooo. Keep going with your little presentation, Ford. It’s real cute.” He condescendingly responded.  
Ford glared and took a deep breath in to gather himself and not punch his roommate in the face. “And then after we share our theory we could show the device and tell them about how it’s a prototype that—"

  
“YAWN” came another inteRickption as he slumped even further near the ground.

  
Ford slammed his notebook shut. “And what would you have us do, Richard? Hm?”

  
Rick sat up. “Oh, n-now you want my input? I told you from the beginning that I thought my idea was very entertaining, i-i-i-interesting, and original.”

  
“An amusement park in a human body.” Ford said plainly.

  
“It’s cool!”

  
“It’s less than brilliant.” Ford turned towards the kitchen and walked in to get water. Just trying to get distance between him and Rick.

  
Rick crawled up to sit on the couch and leaned back shouting into the kitchen. “Uh, I believe the words y-you said —you used were, ‘s-s-stupid’, ‘useless’ and ‘i-impractical’

  
Ford grabbed a glass from their cupboard. “I said that because that’s what it is. We need a real assignment about real science.”

  
Rick sat up a little straighter and cocked an eyebrow up. Ohhhh no. Fiddleford knew that look. They were about to fight…again. “Hey guys?” he piped up in attempt to smooth the waters.

  
“Are you trying to say that I don’t do real science?” Rick glared at Ford.

 

Ford turned to face him as he leaned on the kitchen counter, sipping from the water he’d just poured himself. “Your track record says it, Richard.”

  
“How about we get back to the project? I can color code what we will each say!” McGucket piped up again to no avail. Verbal punches were already thrown.

  
Rick scoffed as his voice raised a little in volume. “Science i-i-is about exploring and experimenting. W-what about that d-does-Exactly how does my idea not fit that?” Rick couldn’t believe this. Ford was putting down his work? Really? There was always a mutual respect for each other when it came to science. Ford had nooooo right. Oh, he had no idea. NO idea what Rick was working on.

  
Ford set his cup down and started to lazily gesture as he responded. “Science is about exploring and proving. Facts. Knowing why and how something does something.”

  
“Oh you just want to do your little anomaly thing because you’ve got one, Sixer.” Rick twiddled his fingers to emphasize his point.

  
Ford ignored his statement. “An experiment, your research, it should enrich people’s minds. Mine does It opens the world to a group of people, places, things, that are different—sometimes defy logic entirely.”

  
Rick laughed to himself. “Mine enriches too!”

  
“Oh, please tell how.”

  
“It would be fun!”

  
That was precisely what Stanford hated. It was always fun and games with Rick. It was about competition and points and wins. He was sick of it. “It’s not about having fun, Richard.”

  
Rick turned away and started mindlessly going through his binder. “Well, that is because y-y—You know what Stanford? You’re just- you’re a fun sucker.”

  
Ford was taken aback. Was Rick running out of mature responses in their verbal spars? What a childish comeback. “I am not. That’s ridiculous-"

  
Rick slammed his binder shut. “You SUCK the fun out of everything.”

  
“I do not!”

  
“Yeah. Ya kind of do!”

  
Fiddle was quiet for a while when he giggled and spoke up softly. “...That’s not all he sucks.” Fiddle giggled.

  
Rick was gagged. He just stared at Fiddle until he finally broke into a fit of laughter.

  
“Oh my GOD! Oh HO! McGucket with the zinger! Yes!” he high-fived McGucket. Who was now giggling a little louder to himself but blushing.

  
Ford was done. He put the glass in the sink hard enough to almost break it.

  
“Well, I guess we’re done here!” He exclaimed as he started towards his room.

  
Rick calmed his laughing down and started to try and persuade his roommate to come back. “Ford, dude. Nah man, come on. I want to get this over with.”

  
Stanford stopped in his tracks and whipped his head around to address Rick. “No, no you don’t. You just want to do your stupid idea. You won’t stop until we say yes to you, because you always pitch a fit and whine and complain until you get your way.”

  
Fiddleford, coming down from his giggle could feel it getting tense again and tried to get Ford’s attention to calm him. “Um...Stanford?”

  
Ford ignored him. “And you know we will do it. You know everyone will go along with whatever idiotic idea you decide. Talk about sucking. You suck out the life, patience and care of every person that ever tries to help you and you just take advantage of them.”

  
Fiddleford stood up as Stanford and Rick looked at each other. “Stanford, lets just work on the assignment. Okay?”

  
Ford snapped at him. “No! I’m sick of him and his attitude. I’m not going to fall just because he doesn’t want to hold the ropes. I’ll do it myself. Fiddleford, you can join if you want, but you—“He pointed at Rick. “You and I are done.”

  
Ford walked to his room, despite Fiddleford’s quiet pleas, and closed the door.

  
Fiddleford looked at Rick, who was still sitting on the couch facing Stanford’s room. Rick huffed and turned to face the TV.

  
“Ugh. What a drama queen.” He mumbled as he grabbed the remote, and began to flip the channels.

  
Fiddleford looked at Rick, and then he looked at Stanford’s door. He wished they’d get along better. They used to! It was all friendly completion between them; that ultimately boiled down to a respect for each other’s minds. McGucket missed when they would play board games, or stay up all night working out theories and inventions. They used to be so close. I mean, going through school together, on the academic team, after school activities, that gets ya close. Fiddleford wondered what happened this year. He moved to the couch and started stuffing his things into his back pack. “I think I’m going to go home. You might want to talk to him. Just give him a tea and tell him it’ll be okay.” He said to Rick.

  
Rick looked at him and scoffed. “Yeah. Not gonna do that.” He returned his attention to the TV.

  
“Okay. Your choice.” Fiddleford stood up to leave. “Just tellin you what works.” He stopped at the door as he put on his jacket. “He still cares Rick. He is just really wanting that grant money.”

  
Rick looked at him again. “Like he won’t get it? H-He’s the star student everyone wants. Mr. Perfect Attendance and such.”

  
“You know you are both at the same level.”

  
“I don’t need you harping on me too, McGucket.” Rick snapped and again turned to the TV screen.

  
Fiddleford opened the door. “Okay then. Evening, Rick.” He walked out, “Talk to him.” He sang as he shut the door.

  
Rick sat in their lonely living room. The TV sound doing nothing to drown out the nagging voice telling him to do the right thing. He turned up the volume, hoping it would help. It didn’t. Rick finally groaned loudly and turned off the TV. Sighing just as loud, he got off the couch and headed towards Ford’s room.

  
What was there to say? ‘Sorry for messing with you during our project meeting that will literally take five minutes to do?’ ‘Sorry for standing up for my work?’ He didn’t know what he was going to say. So, he’d just improvise and try his best to smooth things over with his roommate. Rick knocked softly at Stanford’s door before opening it softly.

  
Stanford was sitting at his desk and scribbling out some blueprints. He didn’t acknowledge Rick’s presence as he entered his room.

  
Rick leaned against the door frame and tried his best to sound positive. Hoping that they could just hang out and let it slowly blow over as they goofed off like they used to. “Hey, Fordy. Want to play some D,D and more D?” No response. “I-I-I have a new character I’m working on. H-He’s a cleric that—”

  
“Richard, I’m clearly not in the mood.” Ford interrupted.

  
Rick rolled his eyes. “Look, Ford. I’m—“ Nope. He wouldn’t say it. “W-w-why do you have to bust my balls like that?” Stanford still refused to look at him. “I just don’t get it. You know I’m going to get the project done.”

  
“Its not just about getting it done.” Ford said, turning to face Rick. “It’s that you don’t care. You used to care more about your work, our work. You took pride in it, and now its just a game.” Ford took a pause. Studying Rick’s body language. Rick was trying to play it off that he didn’t care. But, he did. He looked upset? At himself?

  
“You drink, and get high all the time. Like, I don’t remember a night when you weren’t out partying, or a morning class where you weren’t hung over.”

  
Rick scoffed. “What are you? My mother?”

  
“I’m trying to be your friend, Richard.” Ford straightened his glasses. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”

  
There was a long silence. Rick was still leaning on the door frame and avoiding eye contact completely. Ford turned around at his desk and thought about what he should do. He was still very angry. He wanted to just push him out of his room and shut the door, but he knew his Ma taught him better. Rick was going through a phase, or he was going through something personal. Ford didn’t know for sure. All he knew was Rick was looking more and more sick each day, and didn’t eat when he made anything. In fact, the last time he saw him eat at all was whenever Stanley would come over and order them both food. He would forgive him. He’d forget he was upset. For now. He’d bring it back up for sure.

  
Ford grabbed another notebook and flipped through pages until he landed on the one he wanted.

  
“I have a character I’ve been wanting to try out.” Ford was the first to speak as he turned toward Rick. “He’s one part Elf and one part Halfling.”

 

Rick cracked a smile. “The like, tallest one with th-th-the shortest one?” He chuckled “How does that work?”

  
Ford grabbed his Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons box and stood up. “Wanna find out?”

  
Rick and Ford quickly ran in the living room and started clearing off the coffee table. Their project forgotten (for the time being) on the floor as they set up their game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys! Especially the ones that have kept up with this story so far! You are all awesome! Hope you enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts and what might happen. See you in chapter 6!  
> -Jedwyn


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had written this chapter a few weeks ago and then to my surprise, I found a story titled "Never Have I Ever." I was GAGGED. I was hesitant to post this chapter because that story was soooooo much better than my 'NHIE' idea! Yeet. But! posting anyway, and I highly encourage you to go read "Never Have I Ever" by All My Ships are Problematic (MollieTees) and Datmomfriend. A fantastic Stanchez fic that had me on the edge of my seat. So, great!

(Rick's POV)

“And then he took me to that restaurant I like so much.” My mom spoke into the phone.  
I was sitting crisscross on my bed tinkering away at an invention I was working on. Pushing the phone up to my ear with my shoulder to keep it steady as I worked.

“He took you to Finley’s?” I responded almost surprised.

I heard my mom’s smile through the phone. “Yeah! I thought that was really sweet.”

Of course she did. Her boyfriend was such a tool. He was such a fucking tool, and then he’d come out of nowhere and do something nice for her, and she’d act like all was forgiven. I couldn’t understand why she did that. “Yeah sure. A-a-a night of spoiling you will make you forget all the bad shit he’s done.”

“Rick, language please.” She scolded lazily. I could tell she didn’t even mean it. She never cared about my language.

I didn’t want to ruin my mom’s ‘good day’ so I tried to fake some positivity about it all. “I’m glad you had a good time. But I still think he’s kind of the worst.”

“Honey, I know he’s not your father—”

“Say it again for the people in the back, mom.” I quickly interrupted sarcastically. I did not want to discuss this for the nine-hundredth time. Mom tended to dwell on the subject when it started because she thought I wanted to talk about it. Ummm, hell no. Thanks.

To my surprise, my mom chuckled a little into the phone after my comment. Then, she shyly responded. “Well, I do have something else to tell you.”

“You better not be pregnant. I’m not sharing.” I snapped in retaliation. I already hated her boyfriend. I refused to have a sibling carrying his genes. Or a sibling at all.

My mom laughed again at my comments to her. “No, no. But…” She paused.

I never liked it when my mother paused, because I knew it meant she was about to tell me something that she knew I didn’t want to hear. ‘Rick’ pause ‘we’re moving.’ ‘Rick’ pause ‘your doctor says you have to go back to speech therapy.’ I hated it. It never meant anything good for me. My mom was fast, witty, smart. Didn’t pause midsentence. So, when she did, I knew it was bad.

“Rick, he asked me to marry him.”

I put down my invention, my full attention on her.

I grabbed the phone from my shoulder and switched it to my other ear, clutching the phone a little closer. “Annnnd you told him to eat shit and die, right?”

She breathed in. “Not exactly…”

No. She couldn’t do this. He was terrible. He was a fucking liar and a fake. “Mom. He’s-“

“He really is changing Rick—”

I laughed to myself. “M-mom, he’s a psycho! H-he w-w-won’t-Mom, h-he can’t change!”

I hear my mom’s tone change. “Rick, please calm down. Your stutter will just get worse, and it’s harder to understand you when y —”

“S-s-s-stop! I can talk just f-f-fi-fine!”

“Honey, I know you’re upset—”

“I’m past ‘upset’. I-I-I-I’m fucking pissed!” I ran my fingers into my hair furiously.

“Richard Dane Sanchez, I did not raise my son to talk to me like this.”

“Y-yes, you did!” I screamed and stood up off my bed. I started pacing in my room. “Y-you told me to say what I mean, and m-m-mean what I say. To leave no doubt and to not apologize for-f-f-for feeling how I feel.” I yelled into the phone through one breath. I couldn’t believe that this was her news she wanted to tell me. I took a deep breath and started again with my assault. “And I-I-I’m not apologizing! He’s the fucking worst!”

I heard her sigh and could almost hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. “Rick. Please. I need your support on this.”

“Sorry, mom but y-you’re not gonna get it.”

“Rick, please—”

“No. H-he used to—”

“I’m happy about this.” She quickly interrupted. “I think it will help things a lot.” She brought her tone down to a calming voice again. “Look, I know it is hard, sweetie, But I think it’s time for both of us to move on and be happy again. Don’t you?”

What was I supposed to say? Of course I wanted my mother to be happy, I’m not that terrible, but this guy was NOT right for her. “I’m not trying to be selfish.” She continued. “I thought of you too. Before I made my decision, I thought about how you might be affected.” I scoffed at her, and stopped in my tracks. I was standing in the dead center of my room. Why did I care so much? I mean, I wasn’t even going to be around the guy often. I’m at school…but…I’m the only one who knew what he was truly capable of. Mom had only seen small glimpses and had mistaken them as the whole situation and me just being difficult and having an authority problem. Would she even believe me if I told her? She breathed out a long sigh before she continued. “Honey, I don’t know what you want me to do.”

I stuffed my unoccupied hand into the pocket of my sweatpants, and after a long pause, I finally spoke. “I-I-I just don’t like him.”

“I know, and trust me, he knows.” She laughed to herself. “But, maybe we can talk about this all when you come over for Christmas. You are coming right?”

I didn’t want to be anywhere near that fucker. He— ugh. I decided to make up an excuse.

“I don’t know yet. I have this project to work on with Ford.”

She blew it off. She knew I was making up a reason to get out of it. “I can talk to him about that. He’d understand for me.” I could hear her smiling to herself. “Plus, aren’t he and Stanley going to be coming back to visit Caryn?”

Damn it. They had been talking. While I was happy my mother has friends, I wasn’t thrilled that it was the twins’ mom. Because anything I told Stanley he told Ford, and whatever Stanley told Ford, Ford told Mrs. Pines and you bet your ass she told my mother everything she knew about me from Sixer’s report. “I assume?”

“Then that settles that.” She replied triumphantly. There was another long pause before she spoke up again. “Are you eating plenty? Need me to buy you any food?”

My typical annoyed tone came through as I threw myself backwards onto my bed. “No, mom.”

“Cause last time I saw you, you looked small and a little pale, sweetheart. Your doctor said—”

“I’m fiiine.” I whined and pinched the bridge of my nose and squinted my eyes in annoyance before opening them, to stare at my ceiling.

She let out a breath, sweetly. “Okay. Just be safe, alright? Or I’ll call Stanford and Stanley and have them report to me what all you’re doing.” She vaguely threatened.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” I clapped back quickly.

I heard a mumbled voice in the distance on the other line. I knew it was him. That asshole. “Hold on, sweetheart.” Mom said to me before asking a question to the other person now in her room. “Hey, I’m back.” She said happily to me. “Look, honey, I gotta go.” I was sure he was making her get off the phone, but honestly, I was more than happy to end the conversation right now. “Goodbye, Rick. I’ll talk to you later, sweetie!” She sang into the phone.

I smiled. She sounded like she was smiling. I just hoped that he wasn’t the one putting that smile on her face…cause I fucking hated him. “Goodbye, mom.” I heard the click as she hung up the phone. I sighed deeply as I let my hand fall to the bed, the phone tumbling on my mattress.

God, this day sucked. I grabbed my invention and tried to tinker with it some more, but my mind was going a hundred miles a minute, and I couldn’t think. I couldn’t be alone with my thoughts now. I would just dwell on it. I groaned and sat up. I didn’t want to spend my Saturday thinking about this nonsense. So, I grabbed the phone and my bottle of vodka next to my bed and dialed a number, hoping they’d answer.

“Hey, Stanley.” I said into the phone trying to sound as happy as I could. “Long time, no see. Wanna get messed up tonight?” I asked opening the bottle in front of me.

 

* * *

 

Stanley sat on the floor of the apartment, trying to open a bottle of tequila as he watched Rick pace about the living room clutching a cup of vodka mixed with whatever juice was in the fridge. Rick was clearly upset when he came in, and so Stanley poured him a drink without any questions. And then, he waited.

After the normal small talk, and one drink already down, Rick started talking about what was making him so upset. Stanley was trying to follow, but honestly, Rick was talking too fast and was pacing non-stop, it was getting tough for Stanley to understand the whole story.

“A-a-a-and then she tells me that they are now e-e-engaged and so of course I lost it.”

Stanley finally opened the bottle he was fussing with and smiled triumphantly. “Wait, is this the same guy she was dating when we were in high school—”

“Yes! That prick.” Rick finally stopped moving.

Stanley grumbled a sound of agreement and understanding as he continued to eat his food that he brought. Noticing that Rick’s food was still untouched he looked up at his friend questioningly. “You gonna eat anything?”

“What?”

Stanley gestured to the plate of food on the coffee table with his fork. “Ya haven’t touched it. Is there something wrong with it?”

Rick quickly sat his cup down and looked at the plate below him. “Uh. No. I mean, yeah I’m about to eat, just got caught up ranting.”

Stanley shrugged and stuffed another mouthful into his mouth and spoke. “It’s all good man. I think she is old enough to make her own decisions. She can handle it.”

Rick huffed as he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Breathing in deeply. “She got on to me about me cussing.”

Stanley stopped eating for a second. “What?” He began to laugh. “Your mom? Your mom cusses like a sailor.”

“Y-yeah. I know. Her boyfri—” Rick stopped himself and rolled his eyes. “Fiancé…” he laced the word with disgust and hate. “…doesn’t like it. So, I-I-I’m sure he’s conditioned her to stop and told her that I’m somehow the problem.”

Stanley resumed eating. “Is he religious or something?”

Rick breathed out as he shook his head. “Nope. And get this…” he chucked in disbelief. “He says that ‘intelligent people don’t cuss’. C-can you believe that?” Rick laughed and scoffed at the idea.

Stanley didn’t know how to respond. He was just trying to be a good friend and support Rick as he processed the whole situation. Should he respond? Should he tell Rick to get over it? Stan didn’t know. So instead, he just continued eating. Before Rick piped up again as he put out his cigarette. “I just-I-I-I wanna get fucked up tonight. Forget it all for a minute.”

That is something Stan could do! He understood that! “Okay. Wanna play a game then? That can get ya drunk pretty fast.” Stan suggested putting his plate down and grabbing a cup and his bottle that he opened.

Rick huffed again and grabbed his cup, and resumed drinking. “Sure?”

Stanley poured his drink and thought for a moment. “Oh Umm, Never Have I Ever?”

Rick sat down quickly and began. “Okay. Never have I ever owned a sex toy.”

Stanley was mid sip trying to test his concoction when he choked on it at Rick’s statement. He was just going to dive in? Go straight to embarrassing and personal? Stanley coughed and tried to recover. “Whoa!” He said placing a hand on his chest. “Okay! I guess we are just jumping into the dirty stuff? No warm up rounds?”

Rick crossed his arms and leaned on the coffee table as he chuckled. “I mean have you ever played? That’s kind of what you do.”

“Um okay.” Stanley coughed again. He looked at his cup and gave his answer. “Well, I haven’t.” he stopped and thought for a second. “Wait...you haven’t?”

Rick was picking around the food on his plate when he looked up. “Nope. Why? Does that surprise you?” He dropped the fork and leaned in again.

Stan unzipped his jacket. It started to get hot all off a sudden. “I mean, I guess I always assumed.” He stopped. “You know—cause you’re so experienced.”

Rick looked at him questioningly. “Experienced.”

Whoops… Stan thought. He might have said too much. I mean, Stanley of course hadn’t thought that about Rick before Ford told him his thoughts. “Yeah?”

Rick leaned back and looked perturbed. “How do you know how ‘experienced’ I am?” he punched the word. “Ford m-m-making me out to be a man whore or something?”

Yep. Said too much for sure. Stanley didn’t want Ford to be mad at him for telling, and he didn’t want to see how Rick would respond, so he avoided that one completely. “Well, I guess it’s my turn.” Stanley laughed uncomfortably. “Never have I ever...” it took him a few moments to get in the groove. This style of questions was not a common subject for him. “…hmmm. Oh! Never have I ever gotten frisky at the movies!” He leaned back and felt very proud of himself.

Rick looked at him and grabbed his cup to drink. Revealing that he had indeed done it. Stanley was surprised he didn’t know. “Really?!” he asked, very proud of himself for making Rick drink in the game first. “Wow. With who?”

Rick finished his sip and raised his eyebrows challengingly. “Not part of the game.” He winked. “Never have I ever fucked in the Stanmobile.”

“Oh, is that how we’re playing now? Taking cheap shots?” Stanley laughed as he took a sip of his own drink. Rick just gave him a shrug and a look that dared Stanley to ask another question. Stan finished his sip and decided to get even. “Okay. Never have I ever gotten shitfaced and spent the night on the kitchen floor in nothing but my boxers after puking all over Diane Pritchard.” Rick sipped his drink in defeat as he shot up his middle finger at Stanley.

Stanley just laughed and laughed at the memory of that New Year’s party. He tried to gather himself as he started again. “Okay, okay, no more cheap shots.”

Rick responded quickly with his next question as he started to relax more in the room. Putting his hand on the ground behind him and supporting his weight. “Never have I ever used role play names during sex.”

Stanley didn’t react for a few moments before he reluctantly took a drink. Rick’s jaw dropped as he clutched his stomach and laughed. “Oh ho! Really?” Stanley covered his face and laughed slightly in embarrassment. Rick was in a fit of laughter at Stanley’s bright red cheeks. He could care less about whatever kink this was, he just loved the fact that Stanley was so embarrassed by it. “Lee!” he couldn’t get through his sentence without looking at Stanley’s red face and laughing. “Oh my God! W-w-what? You like being called Da—”

“Not part of the game!” Stanley quickly interrupted and gave a wink to mock Rick’s previous one. He gave his question. “Never have I ever given a blow job.”

Rick just gave a snort and chugged the rest of the contents in his cup. He gave a satisfied look to Stan as he made another drink. “Never have I ever done anything sexual with food.”

Stanley drank. “Never have I ever been on the receiving end.”

Rick finished mixing his drink and started chugging it.

They questioned back and forth for about half an hour before Rick, who was now laying on the ground because of his intake, finally sighed and decided to make an executive decision. “Let’s just move to something not sex related. I-I-I’m getting bored.”

“You’re just mad that you’re losing.” Stanley replied, still able to sit up straight.

“Hey.” Rick piped up again. “I-I’m-I’m drunk. I would say that’s a win!”

Stanley laughed at his friend laying on the floor and groaned a little as he got up to sit on the couch. “You want to just move on to questions? I mean like ‘have you ever had someone you wanted to ask on a date that you didn’t’ kind of thing?” Thinking of the most cliché question that he could, he finished his sentence with a sigh as he brought his cup up to drink again.

A long comfortable silence filled the room. They used to just sit in silence when they needed/wanted to. Neither felt the need to talk. They just enjoyed having someone there. Another presence. Another set of lungs breathing as deeply as they were. Another set of ears to hear the mumbled noises the other made…speaking of.

The long silence was broken by a soft mumble coming from the form lying on the apartment floor. Stanley perked up to look at the drunk brunet below him. He thought Rick might have fallen asleep during the long pause they had, but he leaned over the coffee table to see Rick lazily staring at the ceiling fan above them.

“Did you say something?” Stanley asked as he too crawled off the couch to lay on the ground and stare as well.

Rick blinked but didn’t move. “Diane Pritchard.”

“Huh?” Stanley groaned as he settled in to the carpet.

“Someone I-I-I wished I asked on a date but didn’t.”

Stanley looked at Rick, trying to read the look on Rick’s face. He looked sad again. He regretted it a lot. “Yeah, why didn’t you?” Stanley spoke up. “I knew you really liked her in high school, and she totally had the hots for you, Romeo.” Stanley playfully nudged the nerd beside him, trying to cheer him up and get that sad look off his face. God, he hated it. Rick let out a small laugh at Stan’s playful gesture before Stanley started speaking again. “Man, Ford was pissed that you beat him out for that.” Stanley laughed. “He wanted that role for a college scholarship or something, plus he lost a bet when you beat him out for it.”

Rick raised his back up. Clearly it was starting to ache a little, and he tried to remove some pressure. “Don’t hate the player.”

“I never could remember all those lines.” Stanley looked back at the memory fondly. Ford had convinced him to audition for fun their sophomore year of high school. He was making fun of Ford for even suggesting it at first but decided to join in when Carla McCorkle had signed up. It wasn’t until audition day that Rick also decided to read for shits and giggles, just to piss off Stanford who had been working on the role for weeks. Rick claimed he auditioned because he ‘had’ to.

  
Rick took a deep breath in and started to recite one of his lines word for word.

“A torch for me. Let wantons light of heart.

Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels.

For I-I-I am proverbed with a grandsire phrase,

I’ll be a candle holder, and look on.

The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.”

  
As Rick recited, Stanley just looked at him. Lost for words again in how those dark eyes looked when his mind was busy at work. This glisten and spark shined bright in his eyes every time he was talking about an invention, a song he wrote, or the stars. When he answered questions in class or gave a definition, or even recited lines. Anything that got his gears spinning, Stan saw that spark. He saw it in Ford’s too. He never knew if it was just a genius thing or if everyone had a spark in their eye when they talked about something they were passionate about. Stanley tried hard to remember anything about his lines in the show.

  
“Umm. Uh something about… Take our good meaning, for our…uhhh.. judgment sits Five times in that ere..ummm…once in our fine wits?” Stanley placed a hand on his head hoping it would help him remember. He turned to look at Rick. “I know I skipped and missed a lot of that.” He laughed. Rick joined in the laughter as he started his lines again.

“And we m-mean well in going to this mask,

But ’tis no wit to go.”

“Why?” Stanley responded. “Again, I know there’s more to that line, but I have no clue.”

Rick turned to look at him, finally taking his eyes off the ceiling. “I dreamt a dream tonight.”

“And so did I.”

Rick scooted closer. “Well, what was yours?”

“That dreamers often lie.” Stanley gestured as he recited, and for a moment, lying on the floor, they felt like they were back in high school on that stupid stage in that shitty production.

Rick stared into Stanley’s eyes as he laid there.

“In bed asleep while they do

dream things true.” The last few lines were sounding less like he was reciting them and more so that he was trying to tell Stanley something.

Stanley laid there. Speechless…because of the situation they were in, yes, but mainly because he didn’t know the next line. He laughed to himself. “Haha! I’m sorry I’m messing this up. I know it’s the Queen Mara monologue or whatever.”

Rick laughed. “Queen Mab, haha!” He corrected as he placed a hand on his tummy and laughed some more.

“Oh yeah! Mab.” Stanley started laughing again too. “I forgot, like, aaaaaallll of that monologue. I never got it right once.”

Rick came down from his laugh and propped himself up by his elbow to look at Stanley again. “Oh, come on. I’m sure y-y-you remember a little of it.”

“Naahhhh man.”

Rick scooted in again. “Come on. Last line?”

Stanley sighed loudly and tried to recall any part of that long ass monologue that would please Rick. “Uh” Nothing was coming to him…

“Uhhhhhhhh This…. is the hag,

when maids lie on their backs…ummm God….

That presses them and learns them first to bear...

Making them women of… something, something…

This is she—”

Rick chuckled as he leaned in even closer. “Peace, peace. Mercutio, peace. Thou talk’st of nothing…” he said barely above a whisper.

Another, a long silence filled the air as Rick and Stanley stared at each other. No one had to say anything. They felt no rush to fill the quiet void with their voices. Content to just lay there for a while. Rick’s eyes finally broke contact as they traveled to Stanley’s lips.

That feeling came back. That feeling Stanley had at the party. He really was attracted to Rick? I mean… Rick was here. His best friend, and damn…it was getting hot in that living room. Stanley seeing where this all was headed, broke the silence, and sat up. “Wow, what a time. I still can’t believe that we all three did that.”

Rick followed as he sat up too. “W-what was it like getting killed by your brother?”

“Oh don’t get me started.” Stanley brushed off as he stood to sit on the couch again. He grabbed his drink and spoke before taking a drink. “Diane was crushing hard on you in that. I mean, like you were her first kiss and everything.”

Rick picked up his drink as well. Deciding to try and finish off the rest. “Psh she was my first kiss too.”

Stanley was caught off guard. “What? No way!” Rick nodded. “Wow. So, you and Diane. Romeo and Juliet.” He drank again. “Why did you never ask her out?”

Rick thought long and hard about how to answer. After running through a hundred different excuses, he finally settled on simply, the truth. “She was sweet, innocent…kind.” He swirled around what was left of his drink in his cup “I-I-I didn’t want to hurt her.”

Stanley saw Rick staring into his drink. “You wouldn—”

Rick quickly interrupted. “H-Hey what happened to our game? It’s your turn. Give m-m-me a ‘never have I ever.’”

Stanley faked a smile. He knew Rick was still upset, about everything. Damn, he was doing a bad job at getting Rick’s mind off of stuff. “Okay, let me think…ummm, never have I ever dyed my hair.” He threw the question away.

Rick just gestured a ‘cheer’ with his glass as he drank the last bit of his drink. Stanley leaned forward. “What?! No way… Really?” Rick just shrugged as he finished his drink. “What color?”

“This.” Rick ran a hand through his thick locks. “This i-i-i—this isn’t my real hair color.”

Stanley mumbled something in surprise.

“Well, technically it’s not.” Rick corrected himself.

Rick was about to start another question when Stanley stopped him. “Well, you have to explain!”

Rick laughed uncomfortably trying to get off the subject. “No, I-I-I don’t. Not part of the game.”

“Uhhhh I gotta know this one. Come on. I won’t tell anyone.”

Rick shuffled uncomfortably on the floor before making the decision, his hand never leaving his hair. “I-i-it’s actually...umm...blue.”

Stanley made an over the top exaggerated movement of surprise to hopefully make Rick laugh and loosen back up. It worked. Rick slowly started to laugh at Stanley’s ridiculous display of arm gestures and slumping around. Stanley finally ended up sitting back down next to Rick and inspected his hair. “Blue?”

“Um. Yeah?” Rick responded still laughing and trying to stay sitting up right as Stanley continued his inspection.

“Like how blue?” Stanley asked as he lifted up the layers of the nerd’s hair. “Like Royal blue? Sky blue?”

Rick gently pushed him away still laughing. “Does it matter?”

“No, I mean—I just-it’s cool! I uh-like...were you born with it or?”

Rick resumed running his fingers through his hair. “No, i-i-it’s naturally brown, but it was like--it was an accident.”

Stanley stared at him and gave an ‘and?’ gesture to continue. Rick rolled his eyes and groaned loudly. “So, the first time I fucked with Klaxiain crystals…” Stanley looked very confused. Rick realized that not everyone is familiar with space drugs, and Stanley probably didn’t know the extent of his personal drug use. So, he tried to explain. “They are, like…space drugs. Like, granite I did like, a whoooole lot but the first time—”

“Wait, like rocks?” Stanley interrupted, laughing a little as he did. He wanted to make sure he heard him correctly. “Haha what did you say?”

Rick was confused. He didn’t stutter in that sentence. He decided to just repeat himself. “What? ‘Granite I did like a whooole-”,

“It’s Gran—”Stanley started as he laughed. He couldn’t believe that he was about to tell Rick Sanchez that he was wrong about something. But…on the other hand…Rick has had a pretty bad day. But, it might be Stanley’s only chance to do this ever! What to do? Hmmm. After weighing his options, he decided against it. The last thing Rick needed was too feel like Stanley was against him in any way. Stan brushed it off. “Umm, never mind. Go on.”

Rick looked at Stanley skeptically, but decided to let it go for now. “Well anyway, it-it- could’ve been-might have had to do with whatever I had mixed with it that night but, I woke up the next-the-th-the next morning and it was blue.” He led his hand through his brown hair again.

Stan looked at his friend’s hair. “Why do you dye it?”

Rick drunkenly let his hand fall. “He thinks that it looks—” He interrupted himself. “umm-I-I-don’t know. Just think the attention would be annoying.” Trying to hide his near slip up through his stutter.

“Well, I’d like to see it one day.” Stanley said a little too sweetly. He quickly followed up his last sentence with another to change the subject. “So, you and Stanford worked everything out?”

Rick adjusted as he sat up again. Slurring a little more as he spoke. “Yeah. For n-n-now anyways. W-we’re doing that project thingy right now.”

“Ah cool.”

An awkward silence came between them. Not their usual comfortable silence. This one hung heavy in the air. It felt almost as heavy as the one outside at Rick’s party. Stanley didn’t know what to do or say. Rick clearly wanted to say something but kept stopping himself.

Rick breathed in, faced Stanley and finally spoke, his slurring not getting any better. “Stanley, that night…” He breathed and looked away. “…at m-m-my party.” He breathed in again and brought his dark eyes up to stare at Stan. “I-I-I was wasted. I-I didn’t want- didn’t m-m-mean to throw myself at you like I did.” Rick blurted out as he tried to scoot closer but started to stumble slightly.

Stanley positioned his drunk friend and helped him sit up. “Nah. It’s okay. It was kinda cute.” Umm, Stanley didn’t mean to say that…it slipped out. Did he really drink that much?

Their eyes were locked again. Rick started to sway more as he crawled closer, and Stanley did nothing to stop him. He was sort of frozen. Still trying to figure out why he said what he said. He was not wanting to pull away or make a point to get closer to the person crawling towards him. So, Rick took the lead.

Rick continued to crawl towards Stanley until he straddled his lap and guided Stanley’s hands to rest on his hips. A bold move. Rick didn’t care. He decided he’d take a jump and see if Stanley rejected it.

Stanley’s fingertips tingled as he began to rub small circles on Rick’s hip bones. His touch sent shivers up Rick’s spine, earning Stanley a very, quick, quiet, stifled moan from the form on top of him. Rick leaned down and placed his hands on either side of Stanley’s face and brought him in for a surprise, hard, and passionate kiss.

Stanley was caught off guard. He stumbled and had to catch himself on the ground behind him. He straightened up and leaned into the kiss. As they relaxed into it, Rick deepened the kiss ever so slightly to test the waters. He didn’t know how Stanley was feeling about the whole situation and really didn’t want to mess it up. Stan looked confused but not like he was disliking the experience, and so Rick counted that as a win. Stanley pushed back and deepened their kiss further, gripping the back of Rick’s neck and pulling him closer. It was a simple act but the sudden and subtle shift in control drove Rick crazy. Rick had a very dominate personality and was very keen on showing that in the bedroom. Most of his partners wanted that, expected that, or only left room for him to be the one to steer the ship. He liked being the dominate one, but… this power shift with Stan…wasn’t bad. He rather liked it, as he didn’t get this feeling often from a sweet partner. He then felt one of Stanley’s hands travel up the front of his shirt touching Rick’s small torso. Rick took that as a cue to continue, and so he did. He began to pepper kisses down Stanley’s neck and went to suck on a particular spot when Stanley gently pulled away.

“Umm, Rick…” He whispered. “I just…I’m about to leave.”

Rick leaned back in to Stan’s neck. “Well, Lee, you-y-you know you can stay and just get up early.” He whispered back.

As much as his body was telling him not to, Stan gently pushed Rick away from his neck again. “No, not like here. I mean…” He sighed deeper than he would have wished. “I’m leaving…on the road.”

Rick, still in Stan’s lap straddling him, looked at him questioningly, as Stanley continued.  
  
“I gotta keep moving. Finding work where I can and such. I can’t just keep crashing on your couch or at a hotel.” He awkwardly laughed.

“You, you don’t have to leave now though. Ford and I—” Rick laughed at himself. “Pshhh we don’t care i-i-if you stay here for a while.” He gestured to Stan as if to say ‘Clearly I don’t care if you stay here.’ There was a small pause when Rick finally leaned down and started kissing his neck again.

GAHHHH!!! Stanley was going through such a struggle. His body was screaming at him ‘full steam ahead!’ But his mind was saying ‘you have to stop and tell him now before something happens. He’ll understand.’ Stanley gave a small awkward laugh. “Well…” He cleared his throat. “I kind of also have someone waiting for me.”

Record scratch… Rick stopped what he was doing. Fuck...someone was waiting for him? What did that even mean? Like, in his car? At the hotel? “Huh?” he asked, trying to not sound so surprised.

Stanley cleared his throat again and gently guided Rick off his lap so they were both sitting down on the floor. Finding a bit more distance between them. “Um, Carla. She’s wanting to hit the road with me for a little while.”

Rick was staring at him and shook his thoughts trying his best to hide his feelings about it. Instead he put on that same fake smile he did in grade school and forced himself to sound positive. “Oh. Yeah. She-sh-she’s hot. She’s a hot g-girl.”

“She’s really, sweet and smart.” Stanley smiled. He didn’t need Rick’s approval about this, but he was sure starting to sound like he was looking for it.

“Yeah, not many of those around.” Rick awkwardly laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah…” Stanley breathed out deeply. “I told her I would meet up with her to leave…tonight.”

Rick’s heart dropped a few floors without his permission. “Well, looks like you’re getting busy.” He stood up and swayed into the kitchen. “W-wi-with your life and stuff.”

Stanley followed and began to pour himself some water. “I’m sorry to leave in such a flash, but, as soon as I sober up, I really should be hitting the road.”

“Oh yeah. Pshh” Rick leaned against the counter and drained the contents of his cup. “For sure.”

They didn’t talk much as Stanley sobered up and Rick continued drinking. Neither really knew what to do. Rick felt a little foolish… He threw himself at Stan AGAIN. This time it crashed in his face. Stanley LET Rick do those things despite knowing about Carla and Rick’s feelings towards him. Both of them regretted the night.

Stanley sobered up and after an awkward and quick ‘goodbye’… left.

Rick looked at the door for an amount of time after Stanley closed it. This day sucked… ugh…He needed a distraction from his distraction. He got the phone and dialed a number again.

“Zech, come over tonight?” He slurred into the phone. “I’m wasted, and I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think. I will see you in chapter 7  
> -Jedwyn


	7. Chapter 7

The lights swirled around the club. Music blared through speakers so loud that the screaming of lyrics from the mob of people on the dance floor, could barely be heard. Cigarette smoke filled the air between Rick and Zech as Rick finished his cigarette, and exhaled deeply. Rick looked up at Zech and ran his fingers down the front of Zech’s chest. Not wanting to gain the attention of everyone around, Zech had shape shifted into a human for the night, which was a surprise to Rick when he answered his apartment door to a tall red headed male. Zech quickly explained that his kind could shape shift after a certain age, and he was still getting the hang of it. Rick gave Zech’s new form a quick look down and smirked up at the human who was surprisingly taller than him. Rick maintained eye contact as he locked his door. “I always have had a thing for red heads.” Rick whispered as he pulled Zech in by his jacket and planted a kiss on his lips.

  
The two of them were now dancing on a crowded dance floor. Zech’s eyes were solely on Rick as they practically grinded on each other. Rick was laughing and flirting with him non-stop when Zech finally pulled him in close to talk.

  
“So, what had you so upset today?”

  
Rick scoffed and started to tug away back to the center of the dance floor. “Dude, not now.”

  
Zech pulled him in close again. “Not that I don’t love when you call,” Zech said as he firmly placed a hand on the small of Rick’s back to keep him from trying to leave again. “but I’m not stupid. I’m seeing a pattern. You only want to see me when you have stuff you need to get off…your mind.”

  
“Don’t flatter yourself, Zech.” Rick tugged at the hand on his back impatiently. “I just wanna dance. Come on.”

  
Zech, getting an idea, smirked and brought his unoccupied hand to the front of Rick’s jeans making Rick tense up. He leaned in to talk right in Rick’s ear. “Ah. But I do recall you saying that I could do whatever I want tonight, right?” He felt Rick try to hide a shudder that went through his body. “And while I will let whatever is bothering you so damn much, so much that you had to call me to fuck you just to forget about it, while I will let it go for now, what I want…” Zech paused.

  
Rick was on the edge of his seat not knowing what to expect. He hissed slightly as Zech grazed the front of his jeans a little harder.

  
“What I want…” Zech said again before pulling back to look at Rick. Rick didn’t know when he had shut his eyes, but he opened them when Zech pulled away. He thought he’d open them to meet Zech’s eyes, but instead was met with a sinister grin and those same piercing yellow ones that have haunted his dreams. Bill was there again. He was haunting him again-always. He was always watching after all…

 

The tightening in Rick’s throat was back. He tried to say something but couldn’t speak. He saw Bill’s eyes lock onto his neck and he lunged for him. Rick quickly flinched.

  
Rick was awaiting a screech, or a bite, or a scratch from the demon that had so obviously inhabited Zech’s body. But instead, he felt a soft, tender kiss press against his cheek.

  
Zech broke into a soft chuckle. It wasn’t Bill’s laugh that Rick heard this time. The brunet shook his head trying to physically make the image of Bill’s eyes go away, almost giving himself whiplash by how violently he shook the image out of his mind. When he stopped, he met Zech’s eyes again. This time, they looked the way they should.

  
Rick heard Zech’s laughter continue but was still wildly confused by the whole situation. “W-What?” He asked softly.

  
Zech, still chuckling, looked at him again and answered. “I said. What I want is for you to have fun. So, let’s go dance.” He smiled and took Rick’s face in both hands to place another kiss on the opposite cheek.

  
Rick tried to fake a chuckle as he still found himself trembling from the sight of Zech—Bill’s attack. His eyes darted around to make sure that Bill truly wasn’t around. It was just his imagination right? Oooorrrrr maybe it had something to do with the many pills he stole and ingested from Ford’s medicine cabinet before he left the apartment looking for a quick high. Zech was still at the side of his cheek and holding him close, as he scanned his surroundings like a prey looking for a hawk circling them. Rick’s eyes landed on the door of the club as two figures walked in, the brawnier of the two holding the door open.

  
“Oh, fuck me.” Rick grumbled in disbelief.

  
Zech perked up from Rick’s cheek. “Right now?” he asked eagerly.

  
Rick rolled his eyes. Following Rick’s gaze Zech saw Stanley Pines and some chick coming in and heading towards a booth. He looked at them and then back at his date for the night. “Something the matter, baby?” He asked Rick sweetly.

  
A fire lit inside Rick as he tried to not show just how angry he was. Of all the bars around, Stan had to come to this one. Why? Better question…why was Rick so upset? What about Stanley had gotten him so attached, so worked up? Stanley had still refused to even talk about the subject other than a quick ‘it was kinda cute.’ It seemed that the entire thing was in Rick’s head and completely one-sided. Why was Stan bothering him so much? Rick mentally scoffed at himself. It didn’t matter. He was furious either way. He didn’t need a reason. Rick looked back up at Zech. “W-why would anything be wrong?” He grabbed Zech’s hand and started tugging him to the bar. “Let’s get drunk.”

  
Stanley was lost in his and Carla’s conversation, er-um, more so, lost in Carla’s curves and body. He couldn’t help it. She was charming and cute and sweet. Oh. Stanley was shot by that fat boy’s arrow.  
“And then—” Carla snorted as she continued her story. “Jenna said that she was only going to go with Danny to prom if he could beat the grade that she got on the test, and then—” she laughed again. “Then she bombed the test on purpose!” She could barely get through her sentence as she broke into a loud laugh that almost shook the table. Stanley didn’t care. He wasn’t actually listening to the story. He was too busy focusing on the low cut blouse she was sporting and the way she flirtatiously tossed her long hair over her shoulder. The way the corners of her mouth would wrinkle up when she’d smile. He was so excited about the road tripping trouble they were bound to get into.

  
Stanley could picture it now. When the summer months would start, and Carla might get hot, and he’d have to say that his AC is ‘broken’. Then she would probably slowly take her top off and then they’d start to—

  
“But enough about high school. What are we wanting to do now?” She interrupted Stanley’s day dream.

  
“Huh? Oh!” Stanley coughed to cover up his lack of attention to her story. “I mean, I thought we would just go where the road takes us, ya know?” Carla snorted again.

  
“Oh, Stanley Pines, you are just so adventurous, and mysterious. A real man of mystery.” She drew out the last word as she leaned in placing her elbows on the table.

  
It was starting to get hot in the bar, or so it seemed to Stanley. He pulled at his jacket hoping to get a breeze going and hopefully calm himself down. “Heh, heh. You don’t know the half of it, babe.” He winked awkwardly.

  
Rick began to practically shovel shots down as he occasionally looked at Stanley and Carla in their booth. Zech had finished his drinking a while ago. He was pretty buzzed and needed to sober up because Rick had made it pretty clear through his amount of drink orders that he was the designated driver tonight. He looked at his date again. Rick was leaning against the bar and staring at Stanley Pines and that girl. Zech recalled the night of Rick’s party. Man, did he recall it. The rejection from Rick had been a pretty hard blow for him and he was really upset. At Rick, at Stanley. Almost everyone, it seemed. Then, after a few weeks of skulking, he was rewarded with that phone call from Rick, and God did he feel better. He finally got to be with the person who had plagued his lustful dreams for the past year, and he was optimistic that it could only get better. However, Rick didn’t seem too interested in him now that Stanley was in the room. He was starting to piece things together.  
He knew he was Rick’s distraction, but didn’t know that it was from Stanley. He honestly thought Stanley was just a one-time thing for Rick.  But, he now saw that Rick had fallen in like/lust (Zech didn't know which.), and he had fallen hard. When did it happen? Zech didn’t know, but he was getting a little frustrated thinking about how Rick was treating him. Rick talked about how Zech could ‘use’ him, little had Zech known that he was the one actually being used.

  
Rick finally started away from the bar and back towards the dance floor. Zech was happy he seemed to have finally stopped drinking for the night and decided to pay the tab. Rick, drink still in hand, bypassed the dance floor and kept going till he swayed to the seating section of the bar.

  
Stanley and Carla enjoyed their second round of drinks as they talked. “No, really. I’m excellent at pool.” Stanley gloated.

  
“I had no idea.” Carla chuckled as she leaned in closer. “I knew about your boxing, but a boxing man and a billiards player as well? How’d I get so lucky?”

  
Stanley beamed with pride as his ego was stroked. “Yeah well, I’ll have to let you see me play someti—”

  
“Caaaarla McCorkle!” a voice interrupted Stanley. Stanley looked at the origin of the voice to see Rick standing at their table holding his drink. “I-i-i-i-ts been a long time!”

  
Carla squinted. “Rick Sanchez? Is that you?”

  
“In the flesh, babyyyy.” He slurred.

  
‘Why?’ That’s all Stan Pines could think the moment he saw Rick at their table. Stanley was beyond flabbergasted. How did he manage to pick the exact same location Rick did. He really didn’t want to deal with the conflicting feelings he had pushed out of his mind for the time being. He was leaving. Going on the road. That was that. How?? Why?? Why was this happening?

  
“Rick, hey…pal.” Stanley greeted awkwardly. His new awkward pet name for him did not go unnoticed by Rick.

  
Rick loudly scoffed at Stanley and kept his conversation going. “S-s-so Caaaarrla! W-w-whatcha beennnup to?” Rick slammed his hand on the table as he tilted his head back to drink his drink again.

  
“Well,” Carla was a picking up a strange vibe between Rick and Stanley and didn’t know what to make of it. “I have been working and—”

  
“W-w-w-who was the lassst-who was the last person you kissed?” Rick asked bluntly while he rubbed a tired eye.

  
Carla and Stanley’s mouths dropped open slightly as they looked at each other. “Umm, that’s rather personal, Rick.” Carla said as she narrowed her eyes at him.

  
Rick slurred in response. “Pshhh Its just talk. I-I-I’ll tell you m-m-my- who I kissed last.”

  
Stanley got up and placed an arm around Rick’s shoulder. Rick could not just OUT him like this! He was going to tell Carla that he had let Rick kiss him! He laughed awkwardly. “Haha! Rick, you don’t just ask and tell people things like that…bud.” Rick scowled. He shook Stanley’s arm off of him and stumbled backwards almost falling over. He clutched the table to keep his balance.

  
“W-what are y-you? The conversation police?” Rick said as he gripped the table. “I-I-I can ssayyy whatever I want.”

  
Stanley just smiled at Carla as he tried to make the situation less awkward. He grabbed Rick gently by his shirt to try and steady him. “Rick—” he noticed that this wasn’t a usual drunk Rick. He looked at his friend's eyes. Rick was flying. Whatever drug he’d taken was really doing a number on him.

  
“I-I-I kissed Zech last.” Rick blurted out as he faced Carla. Stanley breathed a huge sigh of relief. His secret was safe. He was very afraid that Rick would just drunkenly blurt out whatever had happened between the two of them earlier that day.

  
“Oh.” Carla recovered. “Is Zech your boyfriend?”

  
Rick scoffed again. “Nooooooo.”

  
Stanley relaxed as he talked to Carla. “He’s a friend of ours!”

  
Carla smiled “Oh. Well, that’s fun.”

  
Rick began to rub his other eye tiredly as he spoke. “Y-yeah but before that, I-I-I kissed Stanley.”

  
Stanley tensed all the way up. Damn, Rick! What was he thinking?! How could he just out that to Carla. Was he trying to make her run off? Was he really that selfish? Stanley snapped his head to look at Carla to read her reaction. She just looked at Stan very confused by the situation. Rick started again, this time leaning down to talk to Carla directly.

  
“Lee i-i-is a great kisser! You should-you should kiss him more often.” He drank again but stopped himself to speak. “Oooohhh but be sure to not-not-just make sure you don’t throw up afterwards. Cause that’s what I did on-on-by accident.”

  
Stan was beside himself. What did Carla think about all of this? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. All of this was happening so fast and he still hadn’t figured out what he wanted. He knew that for right now, he wanted to go on the road and to have Carla there with him. A hot car and a hot girl, what more could a guy want right? Right?

  
But then his mind would travel to the idea of finding a real job and having a real home, and maybe even sticking around to do stuff with Ford. If that was in his future, that’s when he could do some self-discovery. Like what in the actual hell he felt about Rick. Right now though… All he felt was mad. Another voice chimed in before Stanley could speak to Rick.

  
“Rick! Babe, there you are.” Zech came up to the table and pulled a very drunk Rick into his arms. He wrapped one arm around Rick’s waist and then put the other hand on Rick’s shoulder to steady him. “I’ve been looking for you.” He looked at the people sitting in the booth. “Hey Stanley, what’s up? Pleasure to see you.”

  
Stanley relaxed a little when Zech came up. He felt like maybe he would distract Carla from Rick’s comment just enough. Stan honesty wouldn’t have known it was Zech had Rick not mentioned that he had kissed him last. Stan could only assume that they had come together after Stan had left. As he dwelled on that thought, he realized that he was hurt a little. Rick had to of immediately called Zech after he’d left. Was he really that replaceable? He couldn’t stay on that thought though. He shook the feeling away and brought his focus back to the situation at hand. “Hey Zech!” He faked a smile and pointed at Rick. “Is he ok? He seems a little…tipsy.”

  
Rick laughed and tried to take a step forward but stumbled and was luckily caught by Zech. “I-I’m not tipsy, Lee. I-I-I am hammered!” Rick laughed again.

  
“Oh ho. Okay.” Zech chimed in. “Let’s get you home, babe.” He pulled Rick in and turned him towards the door. Rick stumbled a few feet before he stopped, barely standing on his own.

  
“Do you need help getting him to the car?” Stanley asked Zech. Zech turned towards his brawny friend.

  
“Nah man. I got him.” It was then that Stanley felt, well… jealous. He was the one usually helping a whiny drunk Rick. He was always there for him. He really was beginning to feel replaced. But on the other hand, did Rick really expect him to just drop everything when he revealed the feelings that he had? He said that he had wanted to kiss Stan for a while now. So, that meant he had felt this way for at least some amount of time. Yes, Rick had been feeling things for a while, but this was all new for Stan. Rick had no reason to be mad at him for not feeling the same way he did. Stanley didn’t know what he wanted right now, that was no crime. Rick didn’t have to just replace him like that. But then again…did Stan just expect him to not do anything with anyone just because he was indecisive? Rick didn’t have to wait for him to figure things out…wait…but on the other-other hand…why did Stan care? He was here with Carla. His dream girl was about to leave with him to go on a long road trip. He couldn’t be more excited.

  
Rick had stopped his journey to the door because the room had begun to slowly feel as if it would flip. His vision was blurred and colors felt way too bright. He squinted and tried to shield his eyes from the blinding bulbs above him. The music faded away and he could barely hear anything except the thumping of his own heart in his eardrums. It sounded like it was fluttering. His heart was beating so fast and so loud that he could barely breathe. Rick very suddenly felt like he was freezing. His eyelids began to drop as he tried to focus on regaining his balance. He squinted forward and everything around him turned green as he saw a big yellow eye staring back at him. Rick’s breath hitched as his vision started to black out.

  
Zech was still talking to Stanley when they were interrupted by the thunderous sound of a glass shattering. They both turned in the direction of the noise and Stanley’s heart dropped as he saw a familiar brunet figure collapsed on the floor of the bar. He sprang out of the seat of the booth, but it was Zech who reached Rick first. He gently pulled his top half to rest in his lap. “Hey! Hey Rick?” He called sweetly. He looked down and lightly shook Rick’s form. Stanley ran and crouched next to Zech. Stanley got a look at Rick and was instantly concerned for his overall safety. Rick had never passed out like this. Not this suddenly. He would gradually wind down, usually throwing up and then just be too exhausted from that to move anymore. Stanley took the reins.

  
“Rick? Can you hear me?” Stanley held Rick’s face in his hands. He didn’t respond. “Rick? Need you to wake up.” Stanley continued as Zech tried his best to shake him awake gently.

  
How could Zech let Rick go that far? He could easily hurt himself. Didn’t Zech know that? Stanley’s heart felt like it was on a motor. It was running so fast, but his outside appearance was very calm. He scanned Rick’s face for any sign of consciousness. Stanley pulled his face in a little closer, and Rick began to quietly mumble. Stanley never felt more relieved in his life. “Zech, we need to take him to a hospital.”

  
Rick’s eyes fluttered open half way before rolling back again and again. It was clear he was trying his best to stay awake. He mumbled a little louder in disapproval to Stan’s suggestion.

  
“I can’t do that, Stan. He’d hate it.” Zech responded.

  
Stan looked at Zech in disbelief. “And you care? He could have alcohol poisoning for all we know. He needs a doctor.”

  
Zech began to lift Rick up and tried to get him to lean on him for support. “No offense, Stan, but what probably happened was: Rick didn’t sleep last night, then didn’t eat, drank, then popped some kind of pills for a quick buzz and then drank his weight in vodka shots.” Zech said plainly. “He will be fine if I get him home and take care of him there.”

  
Stanley was taken aback as he stood. Zech was probably right. That sounds like exactly what would have happened. “Um, yeah…okay.” Stanley thought. He could not figure out why he was envious of the fact that he wasn’t going to be the one to be helping Rick tonight. He finally just chalked it all up to being because he was the one who knew Rick more and therefore, knew what he needed. So, he was simply concerned for Rick’s safety. That’s what it was. Concern. Not jealousy. Yeah…

  
“Well, I know there are certain ‘hangover remedies’ that people swear by—” Stan started. “But make sure that you don’t give him anything with ginger in it. He’s allergic to it. His hangover breakfast is usually pancakes. Are you sure you don’t need help taking him to the ca—”

  
“I got him, Pines.” Zech cut him off abruptly. Zech gave Stanley a small scowl and continued to position his near-unconscious date into a comfortable position for movement. “I have him.” His words meaning much more than simply being 'the one who's take care of him right now', and Stanley read that subtext like a book. Zech was telling Stan to back off. Rick started trembling ever so slightly in Zech’s arms as they stood there.He lulled his head over his left shoulder to look at Stan as Zech slowly escorted him out of the bar. His eyes were struggling to even stay open.

“Stanley…” He weakly whispered and drunkenly reached out only to have his hand drop from exhaustion. Zech pulled him back in close and brought his attention back to the door as they were walking out. Rick kept trying his best to look at Stanley as he was guided out of the establishment. “I-I-I’m shivering.”

Zech, without warning, forcefully jerked Rick out the door. "Fuck, Zech. Y-y-you're hurting me." Rick stammered softly as he tried to regain his balance from Zech's hard tug. Zech just as forcefully yanked Rick back to him. Another painful hiss escaped the young scientist. "Z-Zech?" Rick tried to stay awake and look at his alien friend. The brunet's half lidded eyes traveled up to his face, and saw that evil smile and cat like eyes.

"Don't worry, Sanchez. I've got you." Bill whispered with an evil laugh. Rick struggled to pull away. But,his intoxicated body was too weak to do much more than frantically tug at his captor's sleeve before he started blacking out again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys. You're awesome! Let me know what you think. See you in chapter 8.  
> -Jedwyn


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for checking in at chapter 8. Mention of self harm and some violence in this one. Hope you enjoy.

**8 years ago**

The hallway was loud with the busy sound of students rushing from class to class. Stanley was nearly out of breath from running to the eighth grade hallway from the gym, but he finally reached his destination, his friend’s locker. “Hey, Sanchez!” He panted to the brunet. “So, get this, I was thinking after school we could maybe go to the beach? Ford says he has homework, but Ma said she could take us and then your mom could pick us up if you want to!” Stan nearly screamed at the other boy.

Rick brought his attention to Stanley and looked as though he was about to say something, but instead buried his head back into his locker to rummage though his books.

Stanley was shocked. It was unusual for him to be ignored by his friend. “Rick?”

No answer. Rick shut his locker and started in the other direction.

Stanley huffed and ran in front of his friend to stop his stride. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Rick turned his head away from Stan and quickly used his hand to cover his mouth.

Rick’s behavior was seriously confusing the Pines boy. Not a fan of puzzles, he didn’t like having to figure out what was bothering people. He liked it when they would just tell him thngs straight up. “Really? It sure seems like someth—” Stanley stopped when Rick shot him a glare and started towards their class again. What was going on? Why was Rick not talking to him and being so rude? Stanley tried once more to get his attention as they walked to class. “Well, do you want to go to the beach like I was saying? We could collect sea glass and then make like a kaleidoscope thing and sell them to suckers on the shore.” They walked into Mrs. Dickenson’s classroom and went to their seats. “Suckers on the Shore...not a bad band name.” Stan Pines thought out loud to himself.

Rick threw his backpack down and started to take his books out. “No.”

“No?” That’s all Rick had to say? He wasn’t even going to try and make up an excuse for why he couldn’t go? Stanley went through all of the hard work. All Rick had to do was ask his mom. “Why?”

Rick nearly snapped at his friend sitting next to him. “Becau—” He stopped himself, covered his mouth again and rephrased. “I-I can’t.”

Rick returned his gaze to the board and his books. Stanley was so confused. He couldn’t think of anything he had done wrong. Did he forget Rick’s birthday? No...that was a few months ago. Had he said something wrong yesterday? Did he and Ford get into a fight? He would have to figure it out, because this attitude from his friend was not going to fly with him.

Mrs. Dickenson walked into the classroom clapping and gathered the students’ attention. “Okay, class we will be reading out loud again today from Edgar Allen Poe’s The Pit and the Pendulum.” She gave a giddy laugh, clearly passionate about the piece. “Cliff, you started us off yesterday. So, how about you popcorn it to someone else.” She pointed to the young man slouched in his desk.

Cliff laughed to himself and straightened up in his chair. He puffed out his chest and leaned his elbows on his desk. “Oh, ho! Yeah. I pick, Sanchez.” He pointed.

Rick closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He just knew that Cliff was going to pick him, the bastard. Why today? Today of all days? He really didn’t want to read out loud, especially not in front of Stanley. Mrs. Dickenson enthusiastically gestured to the young brunet. “Rick, would you mind reading starting at, ‘In the return to life from the swoon there are two stages...”

Rick froze and looked down at his book. Mrs. Dickenson, nonetheless, encouraged him. “Go ahead. Out loud, dear.”

Rick felt all of his classmates’ eyes burning on him. He tried his best to breathe in deep and adjusted his glasses as he started, an unexpected new lisp emerging from every ‘s’ he spoke. “I-I-In the return to life from the...s-s-swoon there are two s-s-stages; first—” There was a stifled chuckle from a few desks behind Rick.

“Holy cow...” Cliff ran a hand down his face. “This is too great.” Obviously referencing Rick’s new lisp that escorted his signature stutter.

Rick tried his best to ignore it and began reading again, this time a little louder, over the small chuckles and giggles coming from the class. “That-that of the...s-s-sense of phys-s-sical, exis-stence.”

“Class!” Mrs. Dickenson piped up as the laughs got louder and Rick’s reading voice got softer.

“Hey! Stutter House Sanchez,” Cliff barked over the crowd. “I can’t understand you from back here. C-c-c-can you try again?” He mocked his classmate’s speech pattern.

“Cliff!” Mrs. Dickenson gasped loudly.

Finally breaking, Rick stood up and turned to the jock behind him. “Hop off my dick, Cliff.”

Cliff’s mouth dropped as he looked at his enemy. Through Rick’s growl he saw rows of silver outlining Rick’s teeth and he couldn’t help but gleam at the idea of brand new material to poke fun at Rick with. “Oh my God! What did you do, Sanchez? Bite one of your little inventions?” He cackled loudly as he stood and pointed. “Rick got braces and he looks really—”

“Cool!” Stan’s voice interrupted Cliff’s insult.

Rick turned to look at his friend who was still sitting in the desk next to him “Cool, Rick. Braces?” Stanley’s jaw dropped in complete awe “You have like metal in your mouth? You’re like a...like a mechanical shark or something! Can you put magnets on them?” Stanley sat up straight in his desk. His eyes didn’t leave his friend’s new additions to his person.

Rick scratched the back of his head; clearly uncomfortable, but not hating the attention being given to him by his friend. He stammered out a response, as his slight lisp pushed through again. “Uhhhh I don’t know, S-Stanley. Possibly?” He blushed slightly at the way Stan stared at him unblinking.

“How many?” Stanley stood up eagerly. He had a new goal and it involved him, his friend and a shit ton of magnets.

Mrs. Dickenson hushed everyone, finally chiming in. “Alright, all of you, that’s enough. Cliff, principal’s office.” She pointed to the door. Cliff got up and began to bicker with Mrs. Dickenson on the subject of her decision.

Rick turned towards his friend and brought his eyes to meet Stan’s. “Hey, thanks.”

Stanley rolled his eyes at the idea that he needed gratitude for standing up for the nerd. “Well, duh. You’re my friend, and Cliff’s a jerk anyway.” He saw Rick crack a small smile before covering up his braces with his hand again. Stanley decided to get back to business and lighten the mood some more. “Now, back to this magnets idea—”

Rick couldn’t contain his laugh at the twin beside him. “I-I-I don’t know about that, S-S-S-Stan.” He finally lisped out and immediately became self-conscious again. Rick shuffled in his chair uncomfortably before getting an idea and turning to his friend. “Um, Pines...do you mind if I call you ‘Lee’ until I get my braces off?” Rick asked honestly. “I-It’s just that I have Ford’s named shortened without an ‘S’ and i-i-it would be easier to—” He shuffled uncomfortably again as he presented his ideas. “I just don’t want to butcher your name every time I-I-I try to say it over the next few months.”

Stanley knew that the lisp, however slight, really embarrassed Rick. His friend always liked to play himself off as someone who didn’t care about what people thought about him, and that was true...for most people, but when it came to someone that Rick was friends with, or liked or respected, he tended to get really insecure and judge himself pretty harshly. He didn’t like those people seeing any sign of him being weak or giving them a reason to judge him too. Stanley didn’t like that, and he knew that Rick thought he didn’t pick up on it. So, he’d play it off like he didn’t.

Stanley playfully pushed his friend. “Yeah, man!” He tried to assure Rick that it really was fine. “I mean, its the only part of me and Stanford that differs!” He laughed. “Well, ya know...besides his...whatever.” He twiddled his fingers quickly. “I’m all for it though! Whatever you like!”

Rick smiled at Stan’s enthusiasm. “Thanks, Lee.”

* * *

**Present Day**

  
Rick’s bedroom door slung open and the brunet was thrown to his bedroom floor. He hit the carpet roughly with a grunt of pain. Bill, still inhabiting Zech’s body, slunk into the room and shut the door behind him.  
“Ricky, Ricky, Ricky.” He sang as he shape shifted back to Zech’s normal form. “An awful shame that it’s coming to this. Me having to inhabit another body just to get you to visit me.”

Rick placed a hand on his bed and tried to lift himself up only to be yank up by his shirt to face Bill again. “You know what you were told. You know the deal you made. Every month. I get you for one day out of every month, Ricky, and you’re a few months late on payment…soooo what should we do about that?” Bill hissed as he held Rick.

The young scientist was struggling to keep his eyes focused on the demon before him as he weakly tried to pry Bill’s hands away from his shirt. “S-s-stop.”

Bill laughed and forcibly brought Rick’s gaze up to meet his own. “And too intoxicated to even let me have any fun as your puppeteer?” He roughly held the sides of Rick’s cheeks with one hand. “Are you trying to push me away, Rick? Huh?” Bill hissed in Rick’s face.

The fumbling drunk was attempting to stand up right but kept losing his balance. Bill looked at him and a huff of amusement left his mouth. The demon leaned in and pulled Rick into a tight hold with one arm as his other still held his cheeks. “Because no matter how much you might hate me. No matter how much you might pray that I’ll leave. Deep down, you know you need me.” Rick stifled a whimper as Bill clutched him tighter. “I take care of you don’t I?” Bill yanked Rick’s head up to make him look into his horribly yellow eyes. “I make you feel wanted?” His grip got tighter.

“That-th-that hurts—” Rick stammered out as he failed again in a weak attempt to get away.

Bill got dangerously close to Rick’s face. “Shhh, I asked you a question and I expect an answer. I make you feel wanted and you need that?” Rick didn’t answer. His eyes started closing again. Well, Bill was having none of that. He let go of Rick’s cheeks and instead slapped him twice. Not insanely hard, but enough to make Rick conscious again. “Right?”

Rick answered barely above a whisper as he stared at his captor. “Y-yes.”

Bill smiled at Rick’s compliance “Yes… your stupid mistakes and screw ups might drive everyone else away from you, might make them leave you and laugh at you.” Bill brought a sickly hand up and slowly slid his fingers up to Rick’s temple and back down to his jawbone. “But not me, Ricky. I am always here for you. That’s because I care about you the most. I see your worth, the potential that your brilliant little fucked up mind has. I am the one who can unlock your full talent.” He ran a hand through Rick’s brown locks lovingly. “The others don’t understand. They don’t see.”

“I don’t-I-I-I don’t know—” Rick tried to talk back, but Bill cut him off with a sharp cackle and once again, held Rick’s face in his hands.

“Your insecurities are super cute and all, but I need to know what you think we should do about your missed ‘payments.’” Bill looked at his prisoner in question. “I am thinking I show your friend here what kind of deal he really made.” Bill hissed with a sick smile across his lips. As he placed his hand across Rick’s mouth to muffle whatever question he had tried to ask.

“How else do you think I got in here? Shape Shifter made a deal so that he’d get with you again, Ricky.” He rolled his eyes and then looked Rick up and down. “Didn’t know you were such a hot ticket for everyone.” Bill put on an innocent voice. “However, I did inform him that I can’t mess with your free will.” He laughed again. “I’m like a damn genie or something, nonetheless your friend—” Bill gestured to Zech’s body. “He didn’t listen.”

Rick tried to speak again, but Bill’s hand still caged his statements.

Rick saw the moment that Bill made his decision. His yellow eyes got wide and narrowed on his face. “I think I’ll just use this shape shifter here to give you your punishment.” Rick looked at his friend’s body, knowing full well what it was like to be inhabited. Having no control but seeing everything. Rick didn’t want Zech to suffer, even if this was the deal he made. Rick finally struggled enough and got Bill’s hand off his mouth.

“N-no please, Bill. U-u-use me.” Without Bill’s support, Rick drunkenly fell to his knees at Bill’s feet. “I-I-I promise I’ll behave. I won’t mess up again.” The young scientist grabbed at Bill’s belt and tried to lift himself back up. Grasping at anything and everything to try and ground himself and get him back on his feet. He was sure he looked pathetic to the demon above him, and Bill simply looked at the puppet before him and gently ran his fingers through Rick’s hair again.

“Uh uh, Sanchez. I can’t very well have fun inhabiting you in the state you’re in. Plus, I can’t let those payments just go unpunished can I? Tsk tsk. And you promised me last time that you would be good.” After a few run throughs, Bill’s hand stopped at the back of Rick’s skull. “Now, my payment.” He tightened his grip on Rick’s hair, pulled him up and tossed him roughly across the room.

Rick winced in pain as he landed on the floor again. He tried to push himself up, but Bill was already next to him and pulling his shirt around to face him. Bill was standing above him and gripping the collar of Rick’s shirt aggressively. The demon reared a fist back and connected it hard to Rick’s left cheekbone as a distressed yelp rang in the room.

Bill leaned in close to Rick again. “Just remember that I am the best that you can get, Ricky.” He lovingly stroked Rick’s cheekbone that he had just hit. “I gave you what you wanted. Didn’t I? The ability to figure out interdimensional travel? Hm?” Rick moaned quietly in pain. Bill’s eyes narrowed evilly again at the form below him as he brought his fist back again. Bill had an idea of how to hammer his point home. “And yet...” Bill punched the same spot, blow after blow as pained noises escaped his captor.  
“Ack!”  
“I”  
“Ah!”  
“Still”  
“stop!”  
“Don’t”  
“Fuck”  
“Have”  
“AHH!”  
“My”  
“Hck!”  
“PORTAL!”  
After his last hit, Rick tried to sit up but Bill quickly kicked his right wrist and Rick landed on it hard with a quick painful cry. He finally stepped back over Rick and knelt down on the carpet beside him. Rick, trying to catch his breath, rolled to one side so that his back was facing Bill, and curled into himself trying to ease the pain. He brought his good wrist up to cover his eye and cheekbone that was bleeding and already starting to bruise. He couldn’t tell if his other wrist was broken or not but right now, he honestly didn’t care. His vision was partially black and decorated with pained spots, and he felt so nauseous.

Bill looked on at Rick’s human reactions to his punishment and decided enough was enough. Surely he’d learned his lesson. He gently pulled Rick to him again. Ignoring the pathetically stifled sounds of discomfort coming from the twenty-one year old, he affectionately brought Rick’s face to his chest and ran his fingers through his brown hair in a faked attempt at comforting the young man. It was all an act. Bill hated having to play good cop too, but he knew that’s how the game had to be played if he was to get what he wanted.

“Aww. Come here, Ricky. I only do this to help you. You know that you’re my favorite.” He sat there for a few moments just petting Rick gently before holding Rick’s chin up to look at him and the number he did to the left side of his face. Bill smiled sweetly. “Now, what do you say?” He got annoyed when Rick didn’t answer him right away, so he tightened his grip again. “What do you say?”

Rick looked at Bill and mumbled out. “Thank y-you.”

Again, Bill smiled sweetly and ran his fingers through Rick’s hair slowly and lovingly one more time. “You’re my favorite, Ricky. Never forget that. Thank you for dying those roots back. I really do prefer being a brunet when I puppeteer.” He leaned in close and danced his fingers down Rick’s bloody cheek, earning a wince from him. Bill flashed one more smile before hissing out. “Till next time.”

His eyes rolled back for a moment but were then replaced with Zech’s. The shape shifter gasped as he regained control of his body. His reunion didn’t last long though before he was frantically bringing his attention to the person still sprawled out in his lap.

“Rick, I am so sorry!” He desperately got off the ground, stood up, and supported Rick’s weight till they reached his bed. He sat Rick up and then looked at the state of the scientist in front of him. “I couldn’t control anything and I—” He brought his hand up to touch Rick’s cheek but Rick flinched quickly and so Zech stopped before his hand came close.

Rick looked away from the alien in front of him and covered his face once again with his good hand. “Zech...don’t touch me right now.”

Zech wasn’t ready for Rick’s reaction to him. After all the harsh touches brought to Rick by his own hands, all he wanted to do was show that it wasn’t him. “Are you ok? You’re still totally wasted and...God, Rick you’re bleeding.” He stepped forward and got on his knees so he was eye level with Rick sitting up. “Please let me help.”

The brunet refused to look in Zech’s direction. “Zech! Get the-get the fuck out—”

“Rick please—”

Rick snapped around to look at Zech. Still clutching his eye. “Zech, I swear to God, I-I-I will kill you if you don’t leave now!”

Zech gave his friend one final look before hesitantly leaving the bedroom and teleporting home. Rick watched as he left before collapsing onto his bed and staring at the ceiling. His breathing was short and shallow as he tried to collect himself. His wrist fucking hurt and his face, hell, his whole body. He knew he shouldn’t be treating Zech like that. He knew what it was like to just watch as your body is controlled. It was horrible. But he couldn’t help himself. The damage was done. He just wanted to sleep. Rick rolled to his side again and curled up. The smaller he became, the less pain he felt as he finally fell asleep.

* * *

  
Ford came through the front door and threw his bag across the apartment. He was furious. With a frustrated growl he marched to his roommates door and knocked loudly. No answer. “Richard? Open the door!” He shouted and banged again. “I know you’re there! Open up!” Ford knocked once more before he tried the doorknob and saw that it was unlocked. He opened the door and walked in in a rage.

“I knew it. I just knew you’d do this. Here I thought you might show up to class, might show up for our draft presentation and yet-” His eyes scanned the room and landed on the figure sitting curled up on the corner of his bed with his back turned to Ford, leaning against the wall for support. He then noticed the pile of vomit on the bedroom floor. “-here you are. Hung-over from a night of mistakes and stupid choices!”

Rick didn’t acknowledge Stanford’s presence, which pissed him off even more. “What is with you?!” Still no answer. Ford was tired of this. Rick didn’t take into account how he felt, so he wouldn’t either. He decided to hit Rick where he knew it would hurt him. “What...did my brother break your heart? Huh?” He noticed Rick curl into himself a little closer. He narrowed his eyes and continued with his assault. “Cause it sure broke mine when I found out he was seeing you!” His voice dripped with disgust and distain. He mocked. “Aww poor, Richard. Here he is. Stuck wanting the one thing that he just can’t have.”

Rick weakly responded without looking at him. “Y-y-you don’t know me, Ford.”

Stanford Pines glared harder at the brunet in front of him. How could Rick leave him high and dry again? Did he really not care at all? He took a few steps closer. “God, I am so sick of you moping around when you don’t get what you want.” He laughed to himself at the absurdity of it and gestured wildly. “I mean, when you’ve had the world handed to you just because you’re normal and people like you!” Stanford stopped himself and scoffed. “I would trade places with you in an instant.”

Rick didn’t respond. This behavior wasn’t like Rick at all. He was usually quick to defend himself and think up a mean snarky comment to piss Ford off and then Ford would leave and Rick would come give him a half-assed apology and they’d be done with it. Why wasn’t he fighting? After a long pause, Stanford began to get concerned. “Richard?”

“Look...just leave me alone, Sixer.”

Stanford moved closer and caught a glimpse of Rick’s bruised cheekbone. He gasped quietly and quickly crawled onto the bed to turn his roommate to face him, and he saw all of it. Rick’s swollen, bloody cheekbone and the purple that blossomed on his eye. Ford’s quick moves surprised Rick and he wasn’t able to react until Stanford had already seen him.

Ford retreated a little. “Jesus, Richard. Who did you piss off?”

Rick clutched his bad wrist as he turned to face Ford. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? Your cheek is split open.” Ford got in close again and started examining the bruises. “You need to go to the doctor.”

“No.”

“Yes. Yes you do.” Ford left for a few moments and returned with a small bag of ice wrapped in a towel and placed it on Rick’s eye. Rick hissed in pain.

“Ow.”

“What happened?”

“I-I-I just got in a bar fight.” He lied.

Ford saw right through it. “Liar. I’ve seen you after a bar fight. You are always fired up and ready to fight again. So, want to tell me the truth?”

Rick laughed to himself. “The truth.” He looked at Ford. “I-I-I didn’t do something and someone got pissed. That’s the truth.”

Stanford’s thoughts traveled to last night. He came in and saw Zech teleporting away rather hastily. Ford’s eyes shot open. “Oh my god, Did Zech do this to you?”

“No, Ford.” Rick pushed away, forgetting about his wrist and regretting it terribly as the pressure shot a jolt of pain trough his arm. “Gah!” He brought his wrist close.

Ford grabbed Rick’s wrist with its leather bracelets still on it. “My God.” He gently began to touch areas on it until Rick yelped again. “It’s not broken, but you definitely need a brace.” He left again and returned with a wrist brace that covered half the hand and the entire wrist from his room. “Stanley used to sprain his wrist boxing all the time.” He explained. Rick was in somewhat of a daze as he lazily tried to hold the bag of ice on his eye. Ford began to unsnap Rick’s bracelets. His eyes went wide as he soon discovered several small scars hidden beneath them. Rick pulled himself from his daze and jerked his wrist back holding it close to try and hide the scars he’d made. The damage was done... there was no going back. He knew. Ford knew...

Rick didn’t look at Ford. He didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to be asked questions. How could he be so careless? A long silence filled the space between them.

Ford just accidentally exposed something personal, something vulnerable. He honestly didn’t know what to do... and that wasn’t common for him.

He just looked his friend and sighed softly. Then he breathed in deep and gently took Rick’s wrist in his hand to take off the last remaining bracelets, revealing a few more scars. His body didn’t show any sign that he noticed them. Instead he just went to work gently putting Rick’s injured wrist into the brace.

Stanford was almost finished when a soft whisper broke their silence. “Don’t tell Stanley...”

Ford looked up at Rick whose dark eyes were still down cast at the brace that now covered his secrets again.

“I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! See you in chapter 9!-Jedwyn


End file.
